


The Intern

by ThanhXuan



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Office AU, Pining, Romance, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThanhXuan/pseuds/ThanhXuan
Summary: Nothing could have quite prepared CEO Lee Donghae to the way that university intern Lee Hyukjae makes his heart skip a beat.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s almost ten o’clock when Donghae reaches the ground floor of his company. It’s kind of funny, he thinks; the day hasn’t even started properly yet, but he has already left his office as well as all his responsibilities. Donghae shrugs unrepentantly. Irresponsibility feels _great_.

Then the doors of the main elevator open, and Donghae yawns as he looks over the lobby with a disdainful sniff. It’s crowded with employees coming in for work, as usual, and also what looks like a small group of visitors. Donghae takes in the scene through a critical eye—and then quickly hides behind a potted plant in a corner to avoid the rush.

It’s not that Donghae doesn’t feel like talking to people, but really, he does not feel like talking to anybody at all.

The thing is, as the CEO of this company, Donghae tends to attract a lot of attention from his peers. Usually it’s just to greet him or make him sign some papers, but it’s _Monday_ , and it’s _morning_. Donghae has no wish to interact with other humans until at least after lunchtime. It might be kind of hard through, Donghae has to admit, considering that his name is plastered just about everywhere in the building, along with the fancy logo that the marketing department came up with. Donghae remembers that he used to feel very proud of it at first. Now as he’s still deprived of his ten-o’clock coffee and feels pissed off with the whole world, it just _sucks_.

At some point while Donghae complains rather ungratefully about his life, the receptionist leaves his desk to lead the group of visitors. They’re about a dozen people and as soon as they disappear in the elevator, the lobby feels much quieter. Donghae takes the opportunity to sneak skillfully to the reception desk. He hides behind it like a thief, crouched down as low as he can. There, Donghae goes through the files scattered around the receptionist’s computer, halfheartedly looking for a letter that he should have received this morning. Honestly Donghae could have asked his secretary to go down to fetch it, but he’d wanted to go for a walk.

Also Donghae kind of _really_ doesn’t want to work just yet.

 

“Uh, excuse me?” someone asks then.

 

Donghae blinks. Busy as he was thinking about how much he didn’t want to be busy today, Donghae had forgotten to keep himself safely hidden from plain sight. He curses under his breath—that was _such_ a novice move.

Donghae doesn’t move for a few seconds, hoping that whoever it is will just move on. When it’s clear that they won’t, he straightens up reluctantly.

 

“Sorry,” Donghae starts monotonously as he looks up, “the receptionist isn’t—oh.”

 

 _Oh_. Donghae blinks again because, _holy shit_ , who is _this_? There’s a _man_ , standing in front of Donghae on the other side of the receptionist desk, who somehow looks both a little lost and a lot cheeky. He’s handsome like no one else that Donghae has ever met before, and there’s something undeniably charming and confident about the way he moves around space. Even just standing there seems to attract attention around this handsome, charismatic man, and it makes Donghae feel strangely nervous. He gulps.

There’s a name card with Donghae’s logo pinned on the man’s clothes, and it says “Hyukjae”. Donghae feels suddenly blessed today because, holy shit, _Hyukjae._ Hyukjae’s just a bit taller than Donghae, yet younger as well. He has sharp features that mesmerize Donghae, and soft dark hair that Donghae wants to touch, and a cheeky little grin on his plump lips that makes Donghae gasp a little.

 

“Hi,” Hyukjae smiles, and Donghae’s world turns upside down for a long, long moment as he swoons rather unexpectedly.

 

Donghae feels terrible but he really hopes that Hyukjae isn’t _too_ young, because _hell_. This is maybe the cutest person that he’s met since ever.

 

“Uh, sorry,” Hyukjae continues, “but I’m in the internship program and I got a bit late. My name’s Lee Hyukjae; I should be on the list. I’m… not sure where I’m supposed to go?”

 

Donghae had no idea that his own company had started an internship program, but someone’s paycheck is getting raised this month. He gulps, again, his throat suddenly dry with nervousness.

 

“It’s,” Donghae starts before he remembers that he actually doesn’t know anything about the other interns’ whereabouts. Donghae guesses that they were the group of visitors that went in the elevator earlier, but that’s all he knows. He supposes that he could ask the actual receptionist, who’s probably still upstairs with the rest of the group, but then that would mean cutting short his time with Hyukjae.

Donghae is almost tempted to give Hyukjae a special tour, _you know_ , but then he prides himself in his professionalism. He should probably ask Hyukjae’s age first, too.

Also Donghae doesn’t have the actual guts to pull off something like that.

 

On the other hand, and judging by the curious-slash-smug little look that he’s still harboring on his face, Hyukjae looks like he’s totally at ease. The latter leans a bit further over the reception desk and towards Donghae, peering at the latter with a winning smile. Donghae nearly takes a step back to avoid being overwhelmed by Hyukjae’s bright presence.

Hyukjae doesn’t look like he’s any older than twenty-three, maybe twenty-four if Donghae’s being generous. He’s wearing clothes that usually wouldn’t be considered appropriate in a company such as Donghae’s, with his ripped jeans folded up to his ankles and his t-shirt that’s much too large around his shoulders. But it’s showing off Hyukjae’s lean figure and Donghae can spy a bit of skin around Hyukjae’s knees and ankles, so he has no complaints. The shirt is half-tucked into Hyukjae’s pants, and Donghae has the urge to pull the shirt out completely to make it look neat.

Donghae doesn’t though because, honestly, it makes him feel old.

 

“It’s,” Donghae says again. He fumbles with the receptionist’s papers on the desk, sending important files scattering on the floor and dropping a cup of pens over the chair. Over his shoulder, Donghae can see Hyukjae peering at him with his curious, amused eyes and it makes him even clumsier than usual.

Then, finally, Donghae finds the program pamphlet in a drawer. It reads, “Day 1: General visit and introduction to the different departments of the company”. That doesn’t really help Donghae because if he had to introduce his company, he’d start with the cafeteria, show off the menu and then tell people to go home.

For a brief moment, Donghae really envisages calling the receptionist or at least his secretary, when he spots his eleven-o’clock appointment stepping through the entrance. Donghae curses and barely resists the urge to hide under the desk again. He knows he’s pathetic but he really doesn’t need Hyukjae to find out about it so soon. Instead, Donghae clears his throat and points towards the general direction of the elevators.

“It’s this way,” Donghae says as he hastily leads Hyukjae away from Donghae’s revolting responsibilities.

 

“Oh?” Hyukjae blinks, surprised by Donghae’s sudden urgency. “Uh, okay?”

 

Donghae rushes them to the elevator, barely daring to make eye contact, just as the doors open to reveal the receptionist. The latter gasps upon seeing Donghae, flustered, and rushes out of the elevator.

 

“S—” he starts.

 

“Mr. Kim is here for his eleven-o’clock appointment,” Donghae cuts him off quickly before the receptionist can bow to him. “I’ll be bringing Mr. Lee to the first floor so he can join the rest of the interns.”

 

The receptionist blinks in confusion as Donghae steps inside the elevator along with Hyukjae. “Um, they’re actually on the third floor with the marketing department, but—”

 

“Right,” Donghae clears his throat, “third floor.” Next to him, Hyukjae raises an eyebrow but pushes on the third-floor button without a word. “I’ll be back in a minute, sir.”

 

The receptionist widens his eyes and points a finger to himself in bewilderment, as he repeats, “sir?”

 

Thankfully, before the receptionist can say anything else, the doors of the elevator close with a _ding!_ Donghae releases a relieved breath as he finds himself alone with Hyukjae. But then he remembers that he’s, in fact, _alone_ with Hyukjae, and his nervousness rushes up all of a sudden. Donghae nibbles on his lower lip awkwardly.

 

“So,” Hyukjae starts, prompting Donghae to jump out of his skin a little, “are you new here?”

 

 _What?_ Donghae blinks rapidly, confused. He’s been working here for almost five years, thank you very much, and that’s without counting the first year when he’d worked at creating the company.

 

“I mean,” Hyukjae continues a bit sheepishly, “you don’t look like you’re really at ease yet, you know. I thought maybe it’s because you’re not used to working here yet.”

 

Oh, _that_. “Uh.” Donghae flushes. “Uh, right, yeah, I’m. I’m, uh, new.” He clears his throat. In Donghae’s defense, it’s not every day that he lies about being a receptionist in order to talk to cute boys. “And you? I mean, obviously it’s your first day, but. You’re, uh… you’re an intern, right?”

 _Shut up_ , Donghae wants to yell at himself. _Just shut the fuck up already._ Donghae has never felt as dumb as he does right now. He had no idea he was so good at stating the obvious.

 

“Yeah,” Hyukjae nods happily. He glances down at his nametag with a proud grin. “I’m in my last year of university and they’re requiring students to participate in an internship program if we want to graduate. I applied in a few other companies too but this one was my first choice.”

 

Now that Donghae thinks about it, there used to be something similar back in the days, when he was still free of being an adult. “Right,” Donghae mumbles. He hesitates for a second, and then asks bravely, “how old does that make you then?”

 

“Twenty-three,” Hyukjae answers. “And you? If that’s not too indiscreet?”

 

Donghae _really_ does not want to answer this question. “Thirty-three,” he says with a resigned sigh.

That means that he’s literally ten years older than Hyukjae, which is not _too bad_ , considering that it makes Hyukjae legal. But then again what twenty-three-year-old would be interested in someone as old as Donghae?  

 

“You don’t look like it,” Hyukjae points out after a short silence.

 

“Um, thanks,” Donghae says as he finally dares to glance over at Hyukjae, and.

 

 _And_ Hyukjae is _staring_.

Hyukjae is standing much closer to Donghae than the latter initially thought, and it makes him blush slightly. There’s also that playful smile pulling on the corners of Hyukjae’s plump lips that makes Donghae feel just a bit too hot. Hyukjae has his hands shoved into the pockets of his ripped jeans, and he’s leaning against the wall like he’s been there thousands of times, and the way that he’s looking at Donghae makes him feel unexpectedly flattered. It’s the way that Hyukjae’s eyes slowly look over Donghae, all subtle and thoughtful, like he’s thinking, _well, you’re quite good-looking, aren’t you?_ Hyukjae hasn’t said a single word that might have hinted that he thought Donghae was cute, and yet all of his actions point towards it. He just needs to smile at Donghae, and Donghae unconsciously feels like the luckiest man in the world for having caught Hyukjae’s attention.

Donghae really wants to know since when a twenty-three-year-old kid became better at flirting than his old, theoretically more experienced self.

 

Then, Hyukjae tilts his head a little to the side, which shows off the side of his neck and the sharp line of his jaw. Donghae swoons at the pretty sight, a lot.

 

“You’re welcome,” Hyukjae says with a smile, just as the elevator reaches the third floor.

 

Donghae splutters helplessly for a few seconds, embarrassed and shy and pleased, and then rushes out of the elevator after Hyukjae before the doors can close again. “Um,” he says then, looking around the hallway as though it’s his first time there. “Uh…”

 

“Donghae?” someone says then, and Donghae turns around to see Kyuhyun heading towards him with his cellphone in one hand and a couple of files in the other. “What are you doing down here?”

 

Next to Donghae, Hyukjae turns around to stare at Donghae with wide eyes. “Donghae?” he repeats, and then glances at the company’s logo, plastered conspicuously on the wall with Donghae’s name across it. “ _Lee Donghae_?”

 

“Uh…” Donghae starts, panicked. “ _Uh_ —…I—I—…” _Abort! Abort! Abort!_

“I mean,” he splutters with a high-pitched voice, turning towards Kyuhyun with an accusing look. “You! What are _you_ doing here? You’re supposed to be up in finances!”

 

Kyuhyun raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “I know where I’m supposed to be, thanks,” he retorts. “I’m just here to drop something off on Sungmin’s desk.” Then, turning towards Hyukjae, he frowns though not unkindly, “and you, who’re you?”

 

“I’m Lee Hyukjae,” Hyukjae answers. “I’m in the internship program and Mr. Lee”—he glances curiously at Donghae, who studiously avoids his gaze—“was showing me to the rest of the group.”

 

“I’m surprised you even _knew_ about the program,” Kyuhyun scoffs at Donghae. Then he tells Hyukjae, “I think they’re in the main offices; the red doors at the end of the hall, you can’t miss them.”

 

“Okay,” Hyukjae smiles and bows at Kyuhyun. “Thank you, sir. And, uh.” He turns to Donghae, blinks as if unsure whether to drop the flirting attitude, and then shrugs with an unrepentant grin, “see you later, Mr. Lee!”

 

With a last wave and another cheeky smile, Hyukjae saunters off in the direction that Kyuhyun pointed. Donghae watches him disappear behind the red doors, looking a little lost and a lot sad. Then he collapses against the wall with an incoherent groan. He _cannot_ believe that all he did in Hyukjae’s company was act like an awkward fake receptionist, only to be discovered by one of his friends-slash-colleagues. This is so _embarrassing._ Donghae could have started a conversation, maybe thrown a few subtle compliments in, or even at least _looked_ at Hyukjae properly. But no, _no_ , Donghae just _had_ to be like this. Donghae groans dejectedly again.

Kyuhyun throws him a weird glance before dragging Donghae back to the elevators. “I can’t believe _you_ are our boss, what a _joke_ ,” Kyuhyun mutters under his breath, and Donghae can’t help but agree with him.

 

*

 

An hour or so later, Donghae is trying to pretend that he’s being productive while he’s actually playing _Cloud Path_ on his phone. He’s not doing such a good job at the whole “I’m working really hard” farce though, really, considering that he’s hunched suspiciously over his desk and cursing at his phone on his lap. From any outsider’s perspective, it kind of looks like Donghae is having an intense argument with his own crotch.

Which is, _well_. It’s not quite a flattering position to be caught in, is it? 

Donghae supposes it’s a bit silly to be hiding when he’s all alone in his own office. It’s not like a lot of people would dare to complain about his attitude at work since Donghae is literally the highest-ranked individual in this company. And yet there he is, acting like a thief in his own home. Donghae often tells himself that it must be the trauma that his high-school years have left on him, forcing him to act like a rebellious teenager until the end of his life, but truth is that he’s feeling kind of guilty about slacking off so much as work.

But then again Donghae is CEO, and he’s had a very embarrassing social encounter earlier this morning, so he’s _allowed_. _Or not_ , a part of Donghae reproves; he snaps unhappily at that noisy part, _shut up_.

Donghae is on his good way to break his last record at the game, when someone knocks briskly at the door. Startled, he jumps slightly and bumps his knee against the edge of the desk. He yelps at the pain.

“Uh, um,” Donghae panics, looking around for a place to hide the evidence of his crime. He fumbles frantically with his phone, cursing under his breath. Finally, he hides it under his left thigh. Then Donghae grabs onto a random pen and tries his best to look as busy as he can. He clears his throat.

 

“You can, uh. You can come in,” Donghae calls.

 

There’s a short moment when Donghae feels irrationally worried that he’s about to be scolded like a small child. He’s half-expecting his old economics professor to burst through the door and give him detention for the rest of the week. But then the door finally opens, and it’s only to reveal Siwon. Donghae sighs in relief.

 

“Oh. ‘S just you,” Donghae mumbles. He slips his phone out from under his thigh and promptly resumes his game.

 

Siwon steps inside Donghae’s office with ease, looking like he was the rightful owner of this whole company and Donghae only a fraud. Donghae grimaces a little at the thought. Although he’s technically working for Donghae, Siwon sometimes acts more like an actual CEO than he ever will. He’s more mature, better at handling stressful situations right way rather than put them off until last second. Donghae remembers when he used to feel a bit jealous of Siwon, wondering why friend seemed to be such a natural at this damned job while Donghae had to struggle every step of the way. Even today he wonders if maybe it shouldn’t be Siwon sitting at this desk instead of himself.

Siwon sits down gracefully in front of Donghae. He crosses one leg loosely over the other and then waits to see if Donghae is ever going to greet him properly.

 

“Hello to you too,” Siwon rolls his eyes when it’s clear that Donghae can’t be bothered. He sends a disapproving look at Donghae’s growing pile of adult homework waiting for his attention in a corner of the desk. “What’s up?”

 

Donghae grunts, shrugging. He mumbles something that might have sounded like, _not much thanks bye forever._ Siwon either doesn’t hear Donghae or chooses to ignore him. Instead, he raises a challenging eyebrow as he leans more comfortably into his chair.

Donghae wishes that he’d bought uncomfortable wooden chairs instead of those nice padded ones. Maybe it wouldn’t make his counterparts feel so comfortable in his office.

 

“Because someone,” Siwon hums innocently. Donghae glares at his friend and once again he’s outrageously ignored. “And by _someone_ ,” Siwon continues, “I mean Kyuhyun; he was very adamant I said that he was the one who told on you, but anyway. He told me that you’ve decided to demote yourself to receptionist just so you could ogle a university kid.”

 

“What!” Donghae exclaims, offended. He slams a hand onto his desk, and then recoils with a yelp when his palm starts to sting. “I wasn’t _ogling_ ,” Donghae retorts as he nurses his injured hand gloomily. “I was respectfully appreciating his good looks from a respectful distance.”

 

“And you also respectfully lied to him that you were the receptionist?” Siwon raises his damn doubtful eyebrow again.

 

Donghae really hates it when Siwon does that. He should stage an attack and shave off those offending streaks of perfectly-styled hairs someday.

 

“Technically,” Donghae sniffs primly, “I didn’t tell him I was anything at all. He just happened to ask for directions, which I politely provided.”

 

“Badly, from what I gathered,” Siwon pointed out, and Donghae vowed to get back at Kyuhyun in the most painful ways. “Jongin said that you even called him sir.”

 

“Who?” Donghae scrunched up his nose in confusion.

 

“The receptionist,” Siwon snaps. He sighs in exasperation. “The _real_ one, that is. He’s still all panicked about it. Told everyone at the coffee machine.”

 

“Well!” Donghae argues. “He shouldn’t have been wandering around like that and left his post! Then I wouldn’t have had to do _his_ job and show people around the company. I don’t pay people to slack off, do I?”

 

“ _Right_.” Siwon stares at Donghae’s phone pointedly.

 

Donghae has to admit that he’s acting a bit like a hypocritical shit right now. Still, he only dignifies Siwon’s jab with a stubborn humph. Siwon chuckles with a fond shake of the head.

A short moment then goes by as a comfortable silence settles between the two friends. Siwon looks over a few important files that Donghae’s been neglecting, while the latter continues to play halfheartedly on his phone. It’s only half an hour until lunchtime and Donghae really can’t be bothered to do anything until then. For a moment, the only sounds that can be heard in the office is the shuffling of pieces of paper and Donghae’s game sound effects.

For all that this previous conversation had been terribly embarrassing, Donghae finds himself thinking back on it. Which inevitably leads to thinking about, well. About _Hyukjae_. Donghae wonders idly if Hyukjae’s apparent flirting had maybe only been a fickle of his hopeful imagination—and then admonishes himself when a spike of disappointment tugs at his chest. _Get a hold of yourself, Lee Donghae_ , he thinks firmly.

First of all, as Siwon helpfully pointed out, Hyukjae is only a _kid_ ; second of all, well. Second of all, even if Hyukjae _had_ been flirting and even if he’s technically not _that_ young, it’s not really like Donghae is going to do anything about it, is it? As shy and awkward as he is, it’s a real wonder that Donghae even managed to string more than two coherent words at Hyukjae. And even then, those weren’t really his best moments of poetry. Donghae sighs.

 

“So,” Siwon says after a while, prompting Donghae to startle in surprise, “are you going to meet him again? The university kid?”

 

Donghae flushes. For a second, he’s half-convinced, half-terrified that Siwon read his mind. It’s the only reasonable explanation as to why Siwon’s suddenly asking this question when he was busy thinking about the exact same thing.

“Um. Who?” Donghae asks, trying for nonchalance. He fails miserably when Siwon shoots him a look that clear says, “ _don’t be an idiot, Donghae_ ”. Donghae scowls unhappily. “I don’t know, alright,” he grumbles. “Anyway you’re the one who just gave me a lecture about ogling a kid.”

 

Siwon shrugs, unapologetic. He opens another file and skims through it with a mildly interested look. “I was just having a laugh, really. As long as he’s legal and consenting, I don’t really see a problem.” Siwon pauses. “ _Is_ he, though? Consenting?”

 

“Um.” Donghae blinks. He blushes a little, remembering Hyukjae’s cheeky smile in the elevator, and the way he’d looked at Donghae with such open interest. “He, uh—he was really handsome, you know, and he looked at me like. Like maybe he thought I was, too. So I guess it’s. I guess it’s a good sign, right?”

 

Siwon nods approvingly. “Then that’s good. I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to see him again.”

 

“Oh.” Donghae straightens up a little in his chair, feeling hopeful.

Then he slumps back into his chair with a frown. “But it’s not really like I’ll have a lot of opportunities to talk to him, right? He’s an intern, so he’s probably going to stay down in the other departments while I’m all the way up here CEO-ing.” He grimaces.

 

Siwon rolls his eyes this time, sighing exasperatedly. He slaps another file close, and then chucks it into the “ _shit that is done and is now my secretary’s problem, good luck with that assholes_ ” basket. Donghae labelled it himself. It’s right next to the “ _more urgent shit to take care of, I hate my life_ ” one.

“We’ll see,” Siwon says decisively.

 

Donghae blinks at Siwon, intrigued. He tries to prod his friend for some explanation, but then quickly gets bored and drops the topic in favor of lunch. It’s stew today and he wouldn’t miss it for anything.

 

*

 

Donghae only finds out about Siwon’s meddling when it punches him in the face a few days later.

It’s halfway through the week that Donghae figures that maybe he should stop procrastinating at some point. He starts by organizing all of his awaiting files into neat piles on his desk and then slowly studies each one of them. It’s tedious and he fiercely wishes that he could stay in bed instead, but soon the “ _shit that is done and is now my secretary’s problem, good luck with that assholes_ ” basket starts to look slightly fuller than the “ _more urgent shit to take care of, I hate my life_ ” one, so it’s probably a good thing.

One fine morning, Donghae’s almost done with work, for once, when there’s a knock at the door of his office. Frowning in concentration, Donghae grunts at them to come in. It’s his secretary, an old lady that never puts up with Donghae’s shit and he absolutely loves her for it, who tells him that his assistant has arrived.

 

“My _what_ , now?” Donghae snaps in irritation. He’s busy crossing lines and lines of bullshit off a contract that his company is supposed to sign for some collaboration project. The absurdity of the terms listed in the document are making his head hurt.

 

At the door, Donghae’s secretary gives him a nasty look for his rude tone. Donghae knows he’s going to pay for it later. Before he can worry about it though, she huffs and then steps aside. She says something that sounds like _, there he is, you can come in_. Donghae frowns in confusion because he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t have any appointment today. So he looks up, a question on the tip of tongue, and then.

 _Then_ that’s when the punch hits Donghae.

The punch is—it’s _Hyukjae_.

It’s the sight of _Hyukjae_ walking inside Donghae’s messy office, all nervousness and excited smiles and curiosity. And it hits Donghae _so hard_ , that he’s knocked out of his breath, and his world is turned upside down, _again_ , and maybe he’s dying a little inside.

Because, _holy shit_. It's _Hyukjae_.

Hyukjae stops a few steps in front of Donghae’s desk. There’s that cheeky little grin pulling on the corners of his lips again. Hyukjae’s eyes are twinkling with playfulness and he’s obviously amused at Donghae’s surprise. It’s like Hyukjae knows exactly what is going on through Donghae’s head.

Donghae wants to die, because God, Hyukjae looks so _good_ , so _handsome_. But Donghae’s too busy trying to remember his words to actually pass out so he settles on swooning.

 

"My what?” Donghae repeats in a strangled voice. “My _what_."

 

Donghae turns a pleading eye towards his secretary. The latter huffs before walking out of the office with a slam of the door. Donghae knows that’s her payback for his rude behavior from earlier and he can’t even blame her. He still half-considers demanding an explanation right now, he’s the _CEO_ , he _deserves_ to know what the hell is going on.

But then Hyukjae takes another step forward, another step closer to Donghae. Donghae’s brain turns up blank. He blushes a deep, deep red.

 

Today, Hyukjae is wearing a suit. It’s a dark blue one that he wears along with a white t-shirt and a black tie. Although Donghae guesses that it’s because of the company’s dressing policy, he can’t help but regret Hyukjae’s torn jeans and too-wide shirt. But then Hyukjae looks so good now, too, that Donghae decides that he doesn’t mind that much.

 

“Hi,” Hyukjae smiles. He gives a little bow, so quick that Donghae doesn’t have the time to feel irritated. “I’m Lee Hyukjae and I will be your assistant for the rest of my internship program.”

 

Donghae gulps. _Oh, holy shit._


	2. Chapter 2

It happens that for the duration of the program, each intern gets assigned to a specific department within the company. Usually it’s the marketing or the human resources or the finance department, but sometimes there’s also a special someone who makes it to research and development. The interns are then under the responsibility of a senior employee, who acts as a mentor and supervises them for the rest of the program. The objective is mainly to help the interns have their first experience in business in the best conditions.

And it’s _fine_ , really.

Even if Donghae technically had no idea about the program in the first place, he approves of the concept. It’s, well—it’s what Donghae would have wanted for the interns, if he’d actually had a say in the whole matter. After all he participated in a similar program back in the day, when he was still young and vital and in college, so he knows how valuable this sort of opportunity is.

Although to be fair, all that Donghae remembers of his own internship is aimless wandering trying not to interfere with people’s work, and a lot of coffee-making and photocopying. It wasn’t exactly that the experience hadn’t been constructive but it’d been a rather small company with little workload back then. They had been maybe five people working together in this outrageously tiny office, yelling at each other good-naturedly over their computers while complaining about slow Internet. If Donghae has to be honest, he didn’t learn much on a practical, hard-business point of view, but he clearly remembers how much he’d enjoyed the atmosphere, the way that they were a small family and Donghae had been included with open arms. It was that memory of a tight-knit group of clever people, wanting to change the world for the better only with the help of a tiny office and the best of friends, that pushed Donghae to start his own business.

And look where Donghae is now. He’s a CEO and holding his own internship program.

That said, Donghae did _not_ expect to be assigned his own intern. And it’s _Hyukjae_ , at that. Donghae groans a little at the thought. Shit but Siwon is _such_ a meddling asshole. According to that very same asshole though, Donghae has apparently _signed_ a paper—which he does not remember signing at all, but never mind that—and if he refuses to act upon it, the intern has the right to sue. And, really Donghae, Siwon had sighed very sadly, _do you want us to be sued?_

No, _of course not_ Donghae does not want to be sued. But a warning would have been _nice_ , that’s all he’s saying.

Donghae sighs wearily. He frowns down at his lap, studiously avoiding looking up at his unexpected guest. It’s not really that he’s scared to face Hyukjae just yet, but really, he is _terrified_.

And isn’t that the funniest thing, a CEO intimidated by his own intern?

Donghae sighs again. “You’re a disgrace,” he murmurs to himself. Then, deciding that maybe it’s time to face the inevitable, he gathers all the courage that he can find within himself and finally dares to glance up.

 

Hyukjae is still standing here. He looks all kinds of handsome and soft and graceful. And also quite possibly perfect. He’s humming a light tune under his breath as he peers curiously around Donghae’s office. It’s messy, probably smells of the late-night snacks that Donghae forgot to throw out last night, but Hyukjae doesn’t seem to mind. Instead he eyes a couple of open files on the desk with mild interest. Then, Hyukjae looks up and catches Donghae looking. He smiles easily, obviously finding this whole situation very amusing indeed.

Donghae gasps softly at the sight. As much as he likes to believe that he can keep this intern thing strictly professional, he can’t help the odd little jump that his heart makes when he sees the way Hyukjae valiantly tries to conceal his laughter. It’s like he knows perfectly what is going through Donghae’s mind, from the conflict of interest to the desperate swooning. It’s probably not that hard to guess what he’s thinking because Donghae’s always been told that his face is like an open book. Today it’s Hyukjae who’s reading it, the lines and lines of Donghae’s clumsy life story, clever eyes gazing back at Donghae with indulgence and something that looks a little like genuine interest.

Donghae has to remind himself how to breathe, just for a second. There’s hope blooming in the center of his chest at the sight of that small look. It’s warm and soft, and a little overwhelming if Donghae’s honest, and he just _wants_. He wants this, whatever it is, this odd little situation where he’s allowed to keep Hyukjae by his side for a period of time and get to know him.

Donghae wonders whether this is a blessing or just a really bad idea.

At this point, it would be hard for Donghae to deny his attraction for Hyukjae. He honestly hasn’t felt so flustered and shy because of another man in a very, very long time. It’s a rather nice feeling though, Donghae has to admit, to be feeling those light little butterflies come to life in the bottom of his stomach again. Just one quick look at Hyukjae, and— _oh_ , and there they go again, fluttering madly with excitement. There’s also an ache that has started to grow in the left side of Donghae’s chest, reminding him that he still has a heart, and that it does still work indeed. He could do without the constant blushing and stuttering, of course—but Hyukjae seems to think not too badly of him, so it’s probably not all that bad.

But then enrolling Hyukjae as Donghae’s intern-slash-personal-assistant just for his own pleasure doesn’t really seem like the best course of action. For one thing, it’s a bit arrogant of him to think it can get him what he wants, and then there’s the rather problematic question of ethics. There’s probably an unwritten rule somewhere that looks down on a relationship between a CEO and their employees, temporary ones or not. Donghae doesn’t want to have his investors on his back for flirting with a student intern, and he also does not want Hyukjae to be in trouble because he happens to be a little-very-much infatuated.

With a wistful sigh, Donghae remembers when his biggest worry was to avoid his secretary and beat his records on Cloud Path.

 _Hyukjae is probably consenting though and he’s legal, too, isn’t he?_ says a reasonable little voice in the back of Donghae’s head. It sounds a lot like Siwon. _Idiot_ , the voice then adds and this time it’s definitely Kyuhyun. Donghae grimaces as he’s once again reminded that he’d needed the intervention of two of his best friends for his love life to even look like one again. He knows they’re just trying to help but still. What a pair of nosy assholes.

 

“Sorry, what?” says Hyukjae.

 

Donghae is snatched back to the present moment.

“What,” Donghae repeats and realizes with horror that he thought those last words out loud. “I mean, it’s. It’s nothing.”

Donghae looks up at Hyukjae with a guilty splutter. In front of him, Hyukjae tilts his head to the side with a cute frown furrowing his eyebrows, looking confused. Donghae has to stop himself from cooing in adoration. It’s a close call although he can’t quite stifle the quiet, besotted ‘ _oh_ ’ that slips through his lips.

Then, finally remembering that he does have manners and knows indeed how to use them, at least in theory, Donghae straightens up a little and clears his throat. “Um,” Donghae stutters. He moves about his desk erratically and sends files flying all over the place. “You can, uh. You can sit down I guess?”

 

Hyukjae gives Donghae a curious look but doesn’t comment.

“Right,” he says instead, sounding dubious as he glances as the chair opposite of Donghae’s.

 

The chair is—God, but it’s such a _mess_. It’s crowded with a dangerously high pile of other files, there’s a bag of last night’s curry leftover on top of it which is dripping all over a business plan, and Donghae’s coat has been thrown haphazardly across the disaster that he’s somehow created without noticing. Clearly there’s no place for Hyukjae to sit properly. Donghae feels another rush of embarrassment slam through him.

 

“ _Oh_!” Donghae jumps to his feet, sending his own chair to roll back abruptly. It hits the wall behind him with a loud thud that startles him. Stumbling around the desk, Donghae hastily throws his coat in the general direction of the coat rack and pushes the bag of curry out of the way, before he clumsily picks up the stack of papers. There’s a hot, sheepish blush on his face when he straightens up towards Hyukjae.

“I—I’ll put this away, you can, um. I’m so sorry, hold on, I—”

But then Donghae trips on his own feet, and his fingers start to lose their grip around the files. He yelps, horrified, and flails around in his best attempt to salvage the imminent disaster.

But it’s already too late. A fraction of second later, all the documents slip out of his hands. They scatter listlessly at his feet; across the floor; under the desk.

Donghae doesn’t move for a long minute. He’s been shocked into complete stillness.

 

Hyukjae blinks quickly, standing very straight in front of Donghae. He looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. “Do you.” He pauses. Clears his throat. His eyes are bright with humor as a tiny little grin tugs stubbornly at the corners of his plump, pink lips.

 

Donghae isn’t sure if he feels very pleased to have prompted that, or just desperate and resigned that he’s such a walking disaster.

 

“I could help you?” Hyukjae offers finally.

 

Donghae sighs heavily. His shoulders slump down in defeat. “Yes, please.”

 

*

 

It’s another half hour before Donghae and Hyukjae manage to clear out a chair for the latter to sit down properly. They go through the scattered documents in a rather awkward silence, at least on Donghae’s part, as they put the files back together and arrange them into two neat piles along an empty section of a wall.

It’s not the most complicated task Donghae had to deal with but he still feels exhausted by the end of it. His proximity with Hyukjae made Donghae feel especially jittery and clumsier than usual. That means really that he was even more useless than even on his worst days. The strain that Donghae inflicted upon himself to refrain from doing anything really stupid in front of Hyukjae has put a toll on him. It makes him feel like he’s aged at least ten years in the past thirty minutes.

Donghae sighs heavily. He flops down onto his chair and groans a little too loudly. In front of him, Hyukjae finally settles down in his own file and curry-free seat, and he looks especially pleased and satisfied with this new development. It’s a little as if he knows how much of a big deal it is to get Donghae to dig through his horrible mess.

Hyukjae sits straight, and his clever eyes peer at Donghae with silent expectation. The latter isn’t sure whether it’s expectation for some kind of job or for him to finally act like he’s not completely insane. In either case, he’s sorry to say that Hyukjae will be thoroughly disappointed.

There’s also a hint of amusement that still flashes across Hyukjae’s face from time to time, especially when Donghae groans or scowls or spaces out. It gives Donghae the very uneasy feeling that maybe Hyukjae can read everything that is going through his mind. That’d be a disaster, he thinks in panic, because his mind is a terrible place and holds too many secrets about how much he likes that fancy suit that Hyukjae is wearing.

Donghae clears his throat. Throws a suspicious look at Hyukjae. He makes a vain attempt at clearing out his thoughts, just in case, but suspects that all he achieves is looking a bit cross-eyed in concentration.

Donghae thinks it’s rather funny that he’s putting more efforts in not-thinking, on the off-chance that Hyukjae might be psychic, than he does when CEO-ing. Which reminds him that he does, in fact, need to maintain the appearance that he knows what he’s doing. He’s not sure that he’s fooling anyone but Kyuhyun always tells him that he’d better try, or _else_.

 

“Okay, um,” Donghae gulps uneasily. Hyukjae gives him an encouraging smile, which fortifies him just a little. “You’re. You’re Hyukjae.”

 

Hyukjae’s right eyebrow twitches slightly. He looks like he’s barely stopping himself from delivering a witty comeback. “Yes,” he says instead, “Lee Hyukjae, sir.”

 

Donghae almost squeaks aloud at the cheeky “sir”. A hot blush blossoms on his face, and he feels like a complete deviant. It sounds so _inappropriate_ , somehow, to hear it from Hyukjae’s pretty mouth, uttered almost with challenge. Donghae usually hates it when people call him that way, but with Hyukjae, he feels an excited thrill course through him.

 

“Right. Well.” Donghae really has no idea what he’s supposed to do. There was no tip on how to handle your new and very cute intern-assistant in his CEO handbook. “We can, uh, probably talk about.” He pauses. Scrunches up his nose. “About, you know, what I’ll be expecting from you? And… things? I guess?”

 

Hyukjae nods. Suddenly his demeanor changes for a more serious look as he pulls out a pen and a tiny notebook from his inside pocket. He uncaps his pen with his teeth, leans his forearms on his knees for better support, and then looks up at Donghae expectantly.

Donghae doesn’t really know how he can expect anything from him when he looks like _that_. Hyukjae’s like a _dream_ , all fancy and handsome and focused—and yet so young and inexperienced.

There’s something a little vulnerable in Hyukjae’s attitude, too, somewhere beneath all that confidence and cheekiness that Donghae likes so much. He can see it now as he looks for it, for hints of that little weakness that Hyukjae seems to try so hard to hide. It’s the way that he taps his right foot nervously onto the carpeted floor, a rhythmic _tap-tap-tap-tap_. He also unconsciously bites his lower lip from time to time. The uncertainty that flashes across his face when he does so makes him look so young, as young as he really is, and Donghae is suddenly reminded that he’s actually ten years older. That Hyukjae’s just a kid.

For a second, Donghae feels a fierce protectiveness for that boy that still knows almost nothing of the world. He remembers when he was that young, when everything seemed possible and wonderful and fascinating. Now he has this everything and it tastes dull to him. But he wants to keep Hyukjae dreaming for something better than Donghae made for himself.

Donghae also craves to reach out and cup Hyukjae’s face, smooth out the worry of his sharp features until he’s smiling that lovely lopsided smile again. It’s a little disconcerting how Donghae feels so protective of that concerned frown, but also so attracted to that cheeky, smug little thing that keeps dancing teasingly in Hyukjae’s eyes. Donghae suspects that it’s that contrast between the vulnerable and the confident, that way that Hyukjae carries himself about with determination and playfulness despite his insecurities, his youth, that makes Hyukjae so beautiful in Donghae’s eyes.

For more reasons than one, Donghae really doesn’t want to disappoint Hyukjae. He thinks the best way is to be honest with him but then he wouldn’t even know where to start. Still, he tries.

 

“Okay, well, I’m. I’m not going to lie, I’ve never had to take care of an intern before.” _What an understatement_ , Donghae thinks. He grimaces. “I’m not really good at, uh, you know, this… mentoring thing, I guess?” Clearing his throat, Donghae reaches out for a broken piece of eraser and starts to play with it. He scrubs it along the edge of his desk, suddenly fascinated with his new toy. It leaves white-grey bits of eraser behind. “But, uh. I, I will try my best to teach you what I know. We can find you stuff to do as we go, right? And, and hopefully it won’t be too bad an experience and you’ll learn something useful and, and.”

An unexpected rush of adrenaline courses through Donghae. It makes him realize just how much he doesn’t want to fuck this up. He takes a deep breath. Dares to look up. When he meets Hyukjae’s eyes, they have taken a soft and thoughtful edge. There’s a faint smile on his lips that makes Donghae’s heart ache, and his determination softens into shy uncertainty. “Does that. Does that sound good?”

 

Hyukjae doesn’t say a word for a long time. He simply looks at Donghae and once again, it’s like his gaze can see right through him. “Yes,” he says after a while, and his eyes are so soft and warm, and they make Donghae feel hot all over. “That sounds really good.”

 

“Oh.” Donghae deflates a little more until he feels suddenly small and the more vulnerable one. “Oh, okay.” Donghae pauses, dares another glance at Hyukjae. He can’t help another appreciate look over the fancy dark blue suit, before looking down at his own attire. It’s just black trousers and a grey shirt. Earlier this morning he looked a little like an uncle who came at a family dinner a bit overdressed. And now that he’s sitting there in front of Hyukjae, with his smart clothes and his shiny black shoes, Donghae still looks like a friendly uncle but also feels rather underdressed. He picks at a button of his shirt self-consciously.

“You don’t have to dress up like this all the time. You know,” Donghae mumbles as he flaps his hands frantically in the direction of Hyukjae’s clothes. “I mean.”

 

“Oh,” Hyukjae says with a small voice. He turns a crestfallen face towards Donghae. Donghae swears that his heart _breaks_ at the sight. “Do you mean you don’t like it? My suit?”

 

“What!” A deep blush spreads across Donghae’s face. “ _No_ —I, I mean, yes, I do like it, but—it’s…” He flaps his hands around wildly, flustered. “Obviously you look really good in it, and—I mean, _no_! That’s not what I mean!”

 

“So I don’t look good?” Hyukjae’s shoulders slump down sadly.

 

Donghae wants to _cry_.

 

“No! Yes! Yes, you look good, it’s just!” Donghae really needs to apologize to Siwon because even if they don’t get sued for an issue of contract, it’s quite likely that they’ll get in legal troubles for sexual harassment. “Look. It’s, it’s—”

 

Before Donghae can further embarrass himself—you might think it’s impossible but he lives to break expectations—, Hyukjae starts to chuckle. He looks a little sheepish, a lot amused. “It’s okay,” he says, sounding just a tad apologetic. “I was just joking.”

 

“Ah.” Donghae blinks. His panic deflates again, leaving him even more exhausted. He feels like he should probably be offended at Hyukjae’s joke, but he has to admit that it’s a little funny and it’s already been a weird day anyway. “Well then.”

Slumping down lower in his chair, Donghae sighs. He eyes his awaiting files and groans when he remembers that he’s actually supposed to be working through them. “Right.” He glances at Hyukjae speculatively. “Now how good are you at making coffee?”

 

Hyukjae raises an eyebrow. Then he smiles a winning smile and stands up with purpose.

 

*

 

Hyukjae is _very_ good at making coffee. In fact, he’s so good that Donghae is tempted to ask for another one. It’s the perfect balance between bitter and sweet—not like that awful garbage that they sell down at the cafeteria. Hyukjae’s coffee is every bit fragrant and steaming hot. Donghae almost groans aloud when he takes a first sniff of the beverage.

 

“Yes,” Donghae mumbles to himself as he cradles his cup possessively between his hands. “Coffee.”

 

Hyukjae throws him a half-intrigued, half-amused look. He sips his own hot chocolate, looking very pleased indeed that Donghae is so satisfied with his brewing skills.

As Hyukjae’s about to sit down again, there’s a knock at the door of the office. The secretary steps inside a second later without waiting for an answer. Donghae scowls at her. He doesn’t actually mind the walking in uninvited but it’s just for the principle of the thing.

 

“Here’s another file for you to take care of,” the secretary says, ignoring Donghae’s narrowed eyes and brandishing papers in her hand. And then to Hyukjae she adds, “I think someone’s going to bring you a desk sometime soon. That way you can have your own space to work comfortably.”

 

Hyukjae nods politely. “Thank you, Mrs. Yoo.”

 

“Mrs. _who_?” Donghae squints at the secretary questioningly. She throws him a wary glance in return as she approaches and leaves the file on his desk. “I thought your name was Secretary.”

 

Secretary’s glare intensifies. “A common mistake, I assure you,” she sniffs and there’s so much sarcasm in her voice that Donghae can almost taste it on the tip of his tongue. He smiles. “As it happens, I often need to remind myself that your name is Mr. Lee and not, in fact, Awful Brat.”

 

“Well that _is_ my middle name.” Donghae sends her a winning grin.

 

“Of course it is,” Secretary scoffs as she stomps out of the office.

 

After she closes the door behind her, Donghae turns towards Hyukjae then says, “anyway I’m very well-respected around here; don’t let her fool you.” He feels like he should maintain at least a minimum of presence.

 

Hyukjae lets out a loud laugh. When he does, his eyes crinkle up and his pink gums show and the sound is clear in the relative silence of Donghae’s office. He then stops himself abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Donghae feels sorry that he did so, because _God_ , that _sound_. It was, it was just— _beautiful_. He wants to hear more of it—wants to listen to it for the _rest of his life_.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hyukjae says, but he’s still smiling and Donghae can’t help but grin back shyly. “I didn’t mean to laugh, sir.”

 

“Oh, no! It’s fine!” Donghae shakes his head quickly. He flaps a hand around dismissively as his stomach jumps a somersault at Hyukjae’s “sir”.

“Anyway we should probably, uh.” He frowns down at his papers, realizing—once again—that he’s forgotten about them since this whole intern-assistant thing. “Hmm. Well.” A pause. “Maybe we should take a break?” Warming up to the idea, Donghae nods in excitement. He looks up at Hyukjae hopefully. “Just a small one?”

 

“I mean,” Hyukjae says with a shrug, “you’re the boss.”

 

“Oh, right.” Donghae blinks in wonder. “That’s _right_. Well you can, uh, take a break too. Or you can stay here. You can… do whatever you want. Just, don’t touch the red files, okay? I’m just. I’m just going to. You know.”

 

Then Donghae is speed-walking out of his office, all but running away from Hyukjae’s raised eyebrow. He ignores Secretary’s indignant “already?!” and heads straight to Siwon’s office two floors below. A small sigh of relief takes him when he finds himself alone in the elevator. It’s a rather irresponsible course of action for a CEO to leave an intern alone in his office, really, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. Donghae thinks he can get through this, he really does, but he also needs some time away from Hyukjae to wrap his mind around it. On the other hand, he highly suspects that Hyukjae knows how intimidated Donghae feels by this intern-assistant thing. That’s another reason for him to beat a strategic retreat; namely, to throw a panicked tantrum in his best friend’s office.

Siwon is downstairs showing his department around to his two own interns. They bow down deeply at Donghae when they see him, and he has to tame down a fierce surge of irritation. He glances at their nametags.

There’s a serious-looking girl whose name is Soojung, and Mino, a young boy who has a goofy smile which seems to be constantly plastered on his face. Soojung has sharp eyes that make Donghae feel instantly guilty about slacking off. She reminds him of Secretary, except she’s younger and cuter, like a fierce sister, and Donghae really doesn’t know what to think about it. Mino doesn’t seem to be the brightest crayon in the box, truth be told. He looks a little lost in the middle of all the employees, and even more so next to Soojung’s alert attitude. But Donghae thinks that Mino’s the type to balance his weakness with sheer efforts and enthusiasm. He reminds Donghae of himself when he was younger, and it’s a nice feeling to know that he wasn’t a one-time case of awkwardness and cluelessness. They’re just kids for Donghae though, in a way that’s entirely different than Hyukjae, somehow.

When Donghae looks at Hyukjae, he feels butterflies and fireworks and warm all over. When he glances at those interns, he thinks, “they seem nice enough,” and then does his best to avoid them at all costs.

Donghae does so by going to hide behind a whiteboard near the elevator. He gestures at Siwon to come closer with wild hand flaps as soon as he catches his eyes. Siwon stares at him as if he’s crazy, which is a distinct possibility, and then rolls his eyes in exasperation. After sharing a few words with Soojung and Mino, Siwon finally makes his way towards Donghae. They have a quick conversation in which Donghae rants and groans and panics, and it basically boils down to Siwon repeating, “yes Donghae, sure Donghae, of course Donghae, please go back upstairs Donghae.”

Donghae feels like he hasn’t earned much from this exchange.

He does go back upstairs, although he makes a point to annoy Siwon as much as possible before doing so. When he’s satisfied that his best friend has suffered enough, and that Soojung and Mino are suitably weirded out by the whole experience, Donghae takes the elevator back upstairs. It’s only been a bit less than an hour since he left but Secretary still glares at him when she sees him. He ignores her and then walks inside his office.

Then Stops suddenly.

 

“Uh.”

 

Hyukjae stares back at Donghae with wide eyes. With the wounded dignity of a cat that has had a bath forced upon it, he straightens up slowly from where he’d been dusting Donghae’s lampshade.

 

Dusting. Donghae’s. _Lampshade_.

 _What_ is going on, Donghae wants to know. He only left for an hour and now his office looks like it went from a warzone to a, well. To an actual _office._ It’s like a miracle happened in here.

Donghae guesses that the miracle has a name, and it’s Hyukjae.

 

“It’s.” Hyukjae stops. Starts blushing.

 

Oh. Donghae blinks at the hue of pink that starts to pain Hyukjae’s cheeks. It looks warm and healthy on his fair skin, blotches of embarrassment that spread slowly across his face.

Donghae is fascinated. It’s the first time that he sees Hyukjae so flustered and the sight is. God but it’s beautiful and adorable and perfect, and Donghae feels an amazed smile tug at the corners of his lips. Warmth spreads from the bottom of his stomach in excitement. He finds that he likes that look as much as he secretly enjoys the teasing. It’s rather reassuring to know that it’s not only him that gets caught off guard. But not only that, Donghae wants to know all the expressions that Hyukjae has—the surprised and the happy and the sad—, wants to know more about Hyukjae and his everything.

 

“It’s not what you think,” Hyukjae says at last. It takes a while for Donghae to remember what they were talking about. As if he can’t help himself, Hyukjae picks up a forgotten pen and puts it away neatly in its cup.

 

“Is it,” Donghae says flatly. He makes a few more steps forward, stopping in front of his desk. Then, taking a closer look around his office, he releases a noise of wonder. He didn’t know it was actually that big. “That’s nice.”

 

“Thanks,” Hyukjae mumbles, although he looks like he’s not sure he believes Donghae.

 

Even the junk on Donghae’s desk has been cleared out; they’re all put away in their rightful place or in the trashcan. The mountain of files has also been sorted out in four neat stacks. Donghae glances curiously at the labels; there are the “secondary files”, the “priority files”, the “extreme priority files” and the red “confidential files”. He raises an eyebrow, both impressed and a little intrigued. It seems rather redundant to have two labels that both have “priority” in them, but then it’s always an improvement from his former system—which was basically a random draw and hoping for the best—so he doesn’t comment.

Hyukjae still looks like a deer caught in headlights. When he catches Donghae’s eyes, he looks away nervously. He’s biting hard onto his lower lip and wringing his hands together, and it looks painful. At first, Donghae guesses it’s because he’s worried about being scolded, but when he looks a bit more closely, he realizes that it’s a different kind of nervousness. Hyukjae is worried about—about what? Donghae wonders. It’s like he’s worried that Donghae might have discovered some sort of secret, catching him red-handed. But Donghae doesn’t understand, because how is this a secret? He glances at the four stacks of files again. Somehow, he gets a feeling that it’s got something to do about them. He frowns, intrigued, but decides not to prod.

 

Instead, Donghae asks, “Why are you so nervous?” He cringes when he realizes that he could have been a bit more tactful. “I mean it’s. It’s great, it really is. You’ve done great with the mess. Not that I wanted you to clean it up or anything, but it’s just, you know, nice of you to, um, have done it. I haven’t seen the color of desk in years, you know. Now it’s so clean that I can actually tell that it’s—well, it’s terrible, that green is disgusting.”

 

“Thanks,” Hyukjae says again; this time, he’s smiling slightly. Donghae takes it as a small victory. “I just thought that maybe I’d help and it, uh. It got a bit out of hand, I guess.”

 

“That’s great, really. You don’t have to look so nervous about it, honestly. Secretary will be over the moon when she sees this.” Donghae pauses. “My lampshade, though?”

 

“It’s very dusty,” Hyukjae says with all the dignity in the world. As if to prove his point, he goes back to his cleaning with his chin high in the air.

 

Hyukjae still looks awfully nervous but it’s better. He looks like he’s worried that Donghae might change his mind suddenly and start yelling at him for going through his desk without permission. As he moves from the lampshade to rearranging the post-it’s into six rows—two greens, two pinks and two yellows—, he sends worried little glances to Donghae. When the latter makes awkward grimaces in return, which were really supposed to be encouraging smiles, Hyukjae pursues his lips. He blushes slightly, still flustered from being caught in what he probably believes is a weakness or something embarrassing.

Donghae doesn’t really get it because he thinks it’s the most precious, endearing quirk that he’s ever seen. He frowns and then scolds himself quickly; he shouldn’t make light of something that is obviously so important to Hyukjae. It’d be disrespectful, and anyway, it’s not his business until Hyukjae says so. That makes Donghae a little sad, honestly, but then he’s got the rest of the internship program to get to know Hyukjae. The thought cheers him up.

 

“Do you want to help me go through the numbers in this thing?” Donghae asks Hyukjae after a while, waving a hand in the vague direction of the “extreme priority files” stack. “I could use the help.”

Then he adds quickly, “after you finish with my desk I mean. Uh. Not that, not that you have to, you know? But you look like you want to finish it, and uh, I mean it’s okay, you know? You can, of course you can, it’s just.”

 

Hyukjae bites down on the hint of a smile. He’s still more prudent than before, but soon enough, the familiar gleam of amusement starts twinkling in his eyes again. Donghae’s chest tightens proudly when he sees it. Finally, Hyukjae nods and sits down at the desk, in front of Donghae, and looks up at him expectantly.

Donghae smiles. He has a feeling that it’s going to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

If anybody really thought that hiring cute student Hyukjae as an intern-assistant would miraculously change Donghae’s disastrous working routine, they were thoroughly mistaken.

Donghae highly suspects that this is what Siwon was secretly hoping for, when he pulled strings within the administration to have Hyukjae assigned as his personal intern. Maybe Siwon thought that interacting with his crush on a daily basis would reform Donghae suddenly. Maybe it’d have urged the latter to act at least a bit more professional in order to impress him. Or perhaps Siwon was desperate, and Hyukjae had been his last hope.

Donghae admits that he’s mildly impressed by Siwon’s optimism without fail. It’s also such wishful thinking that he kind of finds it funny. Because, really, he is not a man so easily swayed. Donghae is an unmoving individual who strongly believes in consistency. Changing his working habits now would be going against his very principles. If staying true to his values means continuing to be a lazy shit half of the time, then so be it.

Tough life that Donghae has, really.

He snorts at himself. It’s only in this kind of situation that he realizes how good he actually is at arguing. Finding reasons to excuse his infallible unprofessionalism has always been one of his top priorities. That is, right after sleeping and eating and becoming the best online player on _Cloud Path_.

If Donghae’s honest, he did seriously think about maybe making a small effort, just so that Hyukjae’s opinion of doesn’t plummet too soon. It’s fated to happen someday of course, he’s not fooling himself, but there’s really no need to rush such things. The longer Hyukjae thinks that he’s a decent CEO, the better Donghae will feel about himself and his awful job. But then Donghae woke up this morning and it’s been cold and raining ever since. And it’s Monday, too. So honestly, the only effort that he’s willing to make today, is to drag himself out of bed.

Hopefully Donghae can achieve that before noon.

It is no easy task. It is one of the hardest that he’s ever had to accomplish, in fact. Donghae stares at the ceiling of his bedroom for a long moment. It’s dark and quiet in here, and if he closes his eyes long enough, he can almost convince himself that there’s nothing important out there, that there’s absolutely no need to leave the safety of his home. The mattress is soft, and the blankets are still warm around him, and the pillows are fluffy just like he prefers them. They’re a bit like clingy lovers that won’t let him go. But Donghae fights valiantly, the brave and strong-willed person that he is, struggling against the enticing remnants of the smoky fog that sleep left in its wake.

It’s a long time before Donghae gets up. He only creeps out of his bedroom an hour later, and it takes him another one and half to finally consider maybe going to work sometime this week. After a long shower and a lonely breakfast, Donghae is finally on the road, driving in the vague direction of the city center. Hopefully he won’t get lost today; the last time it happened, he missed an important meeting with investors. He didn’t feel quite so bad about it—quite the contrary, in fact—but Kyuhyun almost had his head on a spike the next day. Donghae supposes he probably should have asked Siwon for directions; instead he’d directly went home after only half an hour going around in circles. But then he’s not an idiot and if there was the slightest opportunity of not-working, he was definitely going to take it.

After driving into a traffic jam accidentally-on-purpose, Donghae finally parks his car somewhere near the company. It’s already bustling with activity by the time that he gets there. He steps in with the greatest reluctance known to man. The moment that he’s inside, it’s like getting struck in the stomach by a painful weight. It’s made of stress and anxiety, prompting him to feel slightly nauseous. _Fuck_ , but Donghae wants to get the hell out of here right away. The lobby is crowded with employees and clients, and it’s like a suffocating black mass. It makes him feel like he’s being pressed down until he’s choking, like he’s out of breath, that walls are closing down on him. Donghae grimaces, then gulps tightly. All he needs to do, he tells himself, is to get to his office upstairs and it’ll all be fine. Hopefully.

He stalks along a wall towards the elevator to avoid the crowd. Some people notice him, intrigued and confused at his odd behavior. The more experienced employees throw him exasperated looks that scream, “God, there he goes again, acting all weird.” Donghae is rather proud that he’s managed to train his staff so well. It took almost five years but it was all very worth it in the end. Case in point, he reaches the elevator with minimal social disturbance. There was just this burly, too-loud man who tried to greet him with a vigorous shake of the hand, and Donghae almost punched him in the face out of panic.

Now it’s all good though, because he’s in the elevator and it’s empty and quiet. Donghae relaxes slightly. He’s not quite calm yet but it’s a bit easier to breathe, feels a bit less like he’s going to throw up from anxiety.

When Donghae gets to his floor, Secretary shoots him a disapproving glance over her newspapers. He gulps again, a little terrified. But then again, she terrifies him all the time so he’s almost used to it by now. Mumbling under his breath, he speed-walks into his office before she can find a way to make him feel guilty about going into work so late. Or _worse_ —give him work to do.

As soon as he’s safely holed up inside his office, Donghae sighs in relief. He can feel all the stress and anxiety fade away from his harassed mind as he revels in the quietness. It’s dark and feels familiar here, reminds him a bit of his own bedroom that he left earlier this morning. Donghae tells himself, _it’s going to be okay, it always becomes okay._ He sits down heavily at his desk and then eyes his awaiting files for barely half a second. _Nope_ , he thinks. Shrugging, Donghae spins his chair so that he’s facing the window instead of his desk, taking out his phone. Then he starts his customary game of _Cloud Path_.

It is Monday indeed; it’s almost comforting how things never seem to change.

 

*

 

There’s a soft knock at the door. Donghae barely looks up from his phone and mumbles something unintelligible that really means, “come in, whatever.” He thinks it’s probably just one of his friends who wants to give him his weekly lecture on responsibilities, and _please_ will you come in to work on time at least _once_.

The door opens with a soft click. Donghae glances up distractedly, expecting to meet Siwon’s exasperation or maybe Kyuhyun’s irritated glare. Whichever, really.

But _then._ Then it’s actually _Hyukjae_ who’s walking in the office, _and_ —

 _Oh!_ Donghae startles as a blush blooms across his cheeks all of a sudden. He gasps in surprise.

It’s not quite that Donghae forgot about Hyukjae working as his intern, but rather that he hadn’t expected the abrupt _want_ that’s hitting him. He braced himself for it much too late, and now there he is, trapped in a storm of his own infatuation. It strikes him from head to toe until he’s left all but breathless. Donghae groans a little. It’s like getting punched in the face by a reminder of his crush. And holy shit, _it’s brutal_. Then the swooning kicks in almost violently and suddenly he’s feeling terribly faint, because he’s just, so _gone_ for Hyukjae, for this boy that he didn’t get to see for a whole weekend. Donghae grimaces slightly because if he’s honest, he sounds a little creepy even to himself. But soon enough he’s too busy trying to catch his breath and stay alive at the same time to really mind. It’s terribly embarrassing, really it is, and Donghae suspects that it’s going to be a daily occurrence from now on.

 

“Good morning, sir,” Hyukjae greets. He looks a bit out of breath and disheveled, as if he ran on his way to the office. Today, he’s wearing a dark blue jumper over a white shirt, and skinny denim jeans. Donghae’s not sure whether to mourn the loss of the blue suit or applaud the way that the jeans show off Hyukjae’s lean legs. 

 

He then bows down at Donghae but it’s so brief that the latter doesn’t have enough time to feel irritated about it. Instead, all he can focus on is the quiet “sir” and the way it makes warmth bloom all around his tummy. He rests a hand over his stomach in wonder.

“Err.” Donghae blinks owlishly. It’s only been a couple of days but it seems he’s already forgotten how to act _normal_ and _cool_. Well, not that he’s often cool in front of Hyukjae, or ever really, but he’d managed to become somewhat decent at least. Now it feels like he’s back to square one. “Um. Hi?”

 

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late,” Hyukjae says as he clears his throat apologetically. He’s a little flushed as he glances guiltily at a wall-clock. Donghae notes that he’s exactly four minutes later than himself. “You, uh. You weren’t here this morning when I came in so I went down to take a look around the other departments, and, um. I, I guess I got caught up in what I was doing, and, really, I’m so s—”

 

Donghae raises an eyebrow at Hyukjae. He’s slightly amused that Hyukjae’s trying so hard to apologize about his four minutes while he should have been in the office something like two hours ago. “Oh, it’s fine really. There’s no need to be so sorry. I got here much later than you did, so honestly, if there’s anyone around here who should apologize, it’s probably me.” Then, with a shrug, he adds, “you don’t have to hang around here all morning waiting for me, you know. I’m probably going to be late every day anyway. If you’re not here when I get in the office and I need your help with something, I’ll just ask Secretary to call you.”

Damn, Donghae thinks. That almost sounded reasonable.

 

Hyukjae seems to agree because he nods slowly, looking a little dazed. “Okay,” he says.

 

Then he goes to sit at his new desk, which has been fitted perpendicularly to Donghae’s. It came in sometime last week, probably the same day that Donghae learned about having his own intern-assistant. He doesn’t remember when exactly; he was either rushing down to the cafeteria for a quick snack, or avoiding the strange people who brought in the desk. It’s a rather cheap piece of furniture, if he’s honest, especially when compared to the rest of his office’s fancy décor. The chair looks quite comfy, at least. Donghae wonders where they stored those furniture items.

Hyukjae looks immensely pleased to have his own space. There’s an excited little smile tugging insistently at the corners of his plump lips. Donghae stares for a long while, feeling slightly blinded by its sight, until he remembers that it’s probably bad manners. He clears his throat. Hyukjae then starts organizing his stuff around his desk with the enthusiasm of a child opening Christmas presents, humming softly under his breath. Soon enough, there are four of everything—pens and notebooks and post-it’s, and other little things. They’re all arranged in a strict system that Donghae can’t ever hope understanding. It looks a bit odd in the middle of the office’s terrible mess, like a classic painting lost among abstract artworks.

Donghae peers at four of Hyukjae’s colorful erasers in wonder. Then he looks down at his own bits of ruined erasers. There are three, which prompts him to grimace a little, before he discreetely hides them in a drawer. Hyukjae doesn’t seem to really like three’s.

 

They don’t speak much to each other afterwards. For a while, it’s just the sounds of raindrops hammering against the windows and Hyukjae pushing some papers around. Mostly it’s quiet. Donghae thinks it’s partly because he’s always been an awkward individual and still feels rather pissed-off about the whole _yes there is a Monday every week_ business. But it’s quite possibly also because as much as Hyukjae can be cheeky and daring most of the time, he’s still an intern working directly under Donghae. It’d be stupid to accidentally cross a line when one’s internship mentor is a renowned CEO. Additionally, there’s a report that Donghae needs to fill in at the end of the program to assess his intern’s performance, so it’s really in Hyukjae’s best interest that he doesn’t fool around too much.

Donghae doesn’t mind that Hyukjae isn’t as forthcoming as he was last week. He understands that there’re his grades at stakes, and it’s also probably a little intimidating to hit on a CEO when there’s the factor of closely working with them for a period of time taken into consideration. Plus, if he’s honest, he’s rather glad that Hyukjae won’t try to flirt with him at every opportunity. Donghae’s feeling quite exhausted already, even if he hasn’t done much of his day yet, and really, constant flirting must surely become a bit annoying at some point. He kind of prefers it when it’s spontaneous anyway, when it’s a daring compliment, uttered out of nowhere and with that cheeky little smirk. All it takes for Donghae is a kind word offered when he least expects, with that mischievous gleam shining within Hyukjae’s eyes, and he’s just, well, he’s just _sold_.

But Donghae also enjoys quietness, and he’s glad to see that Hyukjae does, too.

For a while, Hyukjae focuses on getting settled. Then he finally notices a stack of files that Donghae left on the floor next to his desk. They’re old company projects that either concluded positively or got cancelled. Donghae remembers vaguely about wanting to give Hyukjae the opportunity to learn something by himself, instead of holding his hand through it like a child—he wants to see if he’ll figure out the patterns that link all those files together.

Now Donghae can’t really tell anymore. Instead of trying to remember exactly, he starts another game of _Cloud Path_ because why not. There’s still an hour before it’s reasonable enough to rush down to the cafeteria, and he’s determined to spend it productively.

Hyukjae reads through the files with a thoughtful frown. He sorts them into neat stacks—only two this time, Donghae notes distractedly—and labels them with a red-ink pen. Sometimes, he glances up from his papers at Donghae, especially when his game makes a particularly loud noise. He’d frown, perplexed, confused, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t understand why someone as important as Donghae isn’t working. Hyukjae wants to ask badly, as if curiosity itself is on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t comment though, and Donghae’s too happy to ignore his not-questions.

 

*

 

Then Monday bleeds into a rather sunny Tuesday. Angry dark clouds have faded into a greyish-blue sky that reminds Donghae of the beach and salty wind. It’s stopped raining sometime last night, but the air is still humid outside and clings slightly to the skin. The weather seems more promising than yesterday though, which is always an improvement.

Donghae remembers that it’s on a day just like this one that he and his crew of ambitious friends decided to start their company. It’s a memory that’s full of joy and excitement, one that he cherishes dearly. It’s a precious picture that he keeps selfishly hidden somewhere at the back of his mind, all warm and golden. Sometimes he takes it out from his imaginary box of secrets, just for a quick reminder that he does care for his company.

Donghae spends a long time gazing out the window of his bedroom, reminiscing those better times. The colors of the sky look so soft that he wants to run a hand through the cotton-candy clouds. Then it’s almost ten o’clock, and a series of annoyed texts from Kyuhyun make his phone ping repeatedly. He has no choice but to get ready for work.

Today, Donghae comes into work an hour and a half late. That earns him a furious lecture from both his best friends, who came all the way up to his office just to have a go at him, as well as a disdainful sniff from Secretary. It’s like he’s not even worth more than that from her, which makes him smile in amusement. Donghae brushes off all their complaints with a helpless shrug, and then proceeds to hide in his office for his usual Morning Slump. It’s basically a lethargic lounging in his chair, boneless and comfortable. His morning then mostly consists of playing games on his phone, taking a long nap on his desk, and avoiding Secretary’s accusing glare. The stack of documents in his “ _more urgent shit to take care of, I hate my life_ ” basket has literally doubled in size since yesterday, but he skillfully ignores it.

Hyukjae is obviously more productive than Donghae. Today he’s wearing a white t-shirt half-tucked into neat black jeans. Even simplicity makes his handsomeness shine, Donghae notes a little enviously. He glances down at his own clothes. It’s just black trousers and a blue-grey shirt, which he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. His sunglasses are hooked on his collar. Once again, he has the uneasy feeling that he looks like an awkward uncle who showed up at a family dinner overdressed.

By lunchtime, Hyukjae’s already finished with half of his files. He reads through them one by one meticulously, writing down detailed notes in a separate notebook with observations and questions and comments. It’s tedious work, and Donghae gets headaches just thinking about it. He’s also rather amazed by this amount of dedication and effort. Hyukjae doesn’t seem to mind though, because every time he closes a file, he reaches for another one almost eagerly. Sometimes Hyukjae does get distracted from his work though, and that’s usually when he starts staring at Donghae.

Just like right now.

It’s a peering from the corners of his eyes that’s meant to be discreet, but Donghae always notices because Hyukjae then drums his fingers along the edge of his desk in a rhythmic _tap-tap-tap-tap_. He frowns, too, eyes narrowed in deep thoughts. It’s as if Donghae was an odd puzzle that he couldn’t solve. Frustration pursues his plump lips into an irritated pout, disgruntled as he is that he can’t ask whatever questions that he’s dying to ask, and that Donghae won’t tell.

Idly, Donghae wonders when Hyukjae is going to snap. He then considers taking another nap until lunchtime.

 

When Donghae goes back to his office after a two-o’clock coffee break, Hyukjae seems to have finished with his project files. The two stacks have now been sorted into six and put away on the floor, labelled with a general reason that summarizes why they’ve been accepted or rejected. Each has its own report with observations and a meticulous analysis.

Now Hyukjae has university books and his laptop opened on his desk instead of files. He’s writing lines and lines of tiny little words on Bristol papers, with a clever color and abbreviation key that he keeps in a corner just in case. When Donghae stops curiously in front of him, Hyukjae pauses in his scribbling and stares back in challenge. It looks like revision notes, Donghae muses in mild interest. He shrugs before going back to his path in the clouds.

Hyukjae grins.

 

*

 

Wednesday is trickier than the rest of the week. There’s an implicit consensus within the higher ranks of the company, which dictates that Donghae is to be left alone for the first few days of the week. There’s usually not much to do during that period anyway. But mostly, it’s because everybody knows that he wouldn’t comply even under duress anyway. Wednesday is exactly in the middle of their working week though, which is where their problems start. Donghae strongly believes that it should be his last day of calm and peace and as such, he should enjoy it doing absolutely nothing. The rest of his company think otherwise, stating that surely it’s about time that he starts to get some work done.

Therefore, Wednesday is usually when the company becomes a battleground. All rules are said to be allowed, and even encouraged, if it means that it’ll get their CEO picking up a file, any file. As a result, Donghae has to try his best to be smart and resourceful. He is fiercely determined to survive these tough times of misunderstanding.

In the morning, Donghae avoids Secretary. She has a load of work that she wants to dump on him, he just knows it, so he sneaks past her sharp vigilance to hide in his office. But then she finds out that he’s been hiding under his desk all this time, forcing him to change tactics.

Next, Donghae rushes down to Siwon’s floor to hide in his office, while his friend is actually looking for him around the rest of the building. It’s a clever plan, you have to admit. Then it’s Kyuhyun’s office in finances, except that he’s always been rather skilled at finding Donghae’s whereabouts. It’s only seventeen minutes before he’s barging inside the office, barking, “don’t move or I _swear_ , Lee Donghae.” But thankfully enough, by the time that Kyuhyun has Donghae by the back of his shirt, it’s lunchtime and therefore a perfect opportunity to escape to the cafeteria.

Donghae slips back inside his office around three o’clock. He’s breathless and a little sweaty from all the running. Kyuhyun seems to have given up on his case while Siwon has a meeting with investors until late this afternoon; he should be safe for now.

Hyukjae is still in the office, settled at his own desk. He seems to be still busy revising. For the most part of the day, he’s ignored Donghae’s antics but this time he looks up, raising an amused-disbelieving eyebrow at him. He doesn’t comment though, for which Donghae is infinitely grateful.

This Wednesday ends with another of Donghae’s many Wednesday Victories.

 

*

 

It’s inevitably Thursday, and Donghae just can’t allow himself to play around anymore. It’s not for lack of wanting but even he knows that there should be an end to all good things. Plus, there are so many files stacked on his desk now, so many appointments and meetings and urgent matters that he’s been putting off, that he feels like he’s literally crawling under them. It’s either fight his way through or die trying to ignore the stress at this point.

Donghae is still late to work, because really that’s just how he is. But at least today he’s wearing a more formal suit than his casual-chic uncle clothes. It’s a black set, except for his pressed white shirt and his red tie and handkerchief that he tucked in his vest pocket. It’s rather simple yet the perfect amount of business-y elegance. The suit really does make Donghae look more professional than he really is so there’s that. _I look weird_ , he’d still complained to his mom when they’d bought it together; _you look so handsome, so clever, my son_ , she retorted, teary-eyed and raw pride shining through her shaky smile. Maybe that made things just a little better.

Hyukjae reaches the office five minutes after Donghae did. He walks in with a distracted look on his face. Then he notices that Donghae is already seated at his desk, and. And he’s— _working_?

Hyukjae stops dead in his tracks. Because, is that.

Is that really Donghae _working_?

Hyukjae stands very still for a few seconds, until he shakes himself out of it with a bemused blink. He takes a tentative step forward, then another, all the while peering at Donghae with such intense curiosity that the latter can almost feel it burning through him. Donghae glances up furtively, a little embarrassed. Hyukjae’s eyes are wandering appreciatively over his clothes and the way they hug his body. A flattered blush spreads across his face.

 

“Um, hello,” Hyukjae says but it sounds like a question.

 

“Hi,” Donghae replies in a mumble before clearing his throat. Then he frowns down at his papers. He forgot what he was going to do about those. Hyukjae is very distracting. “I, uh. I left a couple of files on your desk.” He waves a hand in the vague direction of Hyukjae’s side of the office. “I need you to tell me if you think they’ll be conclusive projects.”

 

Hyukjae blinks quickly in surprise. He shifts from one foot to another, startled. “Um,” he starts, obviously not feeling confident about this sudden responsibility, “I’m not sure if I—”

 

“Look,” Donghae cuts Hyukjae off, though not unkindly. He’s a little short on time with these papers so he grabs some and reads through them. “I saw you working on those files before. You were doing good, mostly.” Donghae checked them last night after Hyukjae had left. He’d skimmed through Hyukjae’s reports and had been pleasantly surprised to note that the latter seemed for the most part to have grasped the why’s and how’s of the project proceedings. “A bit inexperienced, of course. Also need to develop your analysis skills to dig deeper in your reasoning, but that’s normal; it was your first time at this kind of task, probably, and I had you figure it out on your own.”

Donghae pauses as he crosses a couple of lines off the contract he’s reading. Then he continues, “your observations were quite good though. I think you’ve got nice intuition about this, you know, this whole… stuff.” A shrug. “It’s the same thing that I’m asking, really. I just want to know if you’ve really understood what I was trying to teach you through this exercise, and if you can apply it to other situations, with different contexts and data. It’s a good opportunity to put to use what you’ve learned—see if you can make your own decision about a project.” He throws a handful of documents into the “ _shit that is done and is now my secretary’s problem, good luck with that assholes_ ” basket.

“They’re not really important cases, don’t worry,” Donghae reassures Hyukjae, “just minor ones. It’s fine if you’re not one hundred percent sure of your final decision. We’ll look over your notes together after I’m done with all this anyway.”

 

Hyukjae flushes prettily at the given compliment. He ducks his head down in shy embarrassment, clearing his throat quietly. Donghae spares a second to sigh inwardly at the lovely sight, letting the swooning kick in without much resistance, until he reluctantly has to go back to his CEO-ing.

 

“I—thanks.” Hyukjae gives Donghae a pleased smile. “I’ll get to work then.”

 

“Hm.” Donghae then straightens up to fully give his attention to Hyukjae. “Look, take your time and don’t be too nervous about this, okay? And don’t hesitate to ask me if you’ve any questions. There’s no wrong answer; just a matter of different opinions.” He smiles at Hyukjae. It’s a bit awkward, of course it is, but he hopes it looks as reassuring as he wants it to be. “Good luck.”

 

The rest of the morning fades away in a blur of signing papers, asking for assessment reports from the other departments, and yelling at Siwon, because that’s always easier than yelling at Kyuhyun. Donghae has appointments, too, with investors and potential collaborators and that burly, too-loud man that he almost punched a few days ago. He comes out of those meetings feeling frazzled and irritated. There’s also his phone that won’t stop ringing and he’s half-tempted to throw it at the nearest wall. His head feels like it’s going to explode any minute now. All in all, it’s terribly tough work and Donghae wants to know why things have gone out of hand so badly again. Then he remembers that it’s all his fault, him and his damned procrastination issues, so he shuts up and gets back to work. He’d never admit it but he’s feeling just a little sorry.

To make up for it, Donghae only takes a tiny break at lunchtime to wolf down a sandwich and then take a twenty-minute nap on his desk. He indulges in another one around half past two o’clock, but that’s really only because Hyukjae brings him a perfectly brewed cup of coffee that makes his mouth water. As he nurses his hot drink between his hands, there’s a soft knock at the door.

 

Donghae sighs. He looks up warily, earning him a sympathetic look from Hyukjae. “Come in,” he calls finally.

 

The door opens to reveal Secretary. She walks into the office with a harassed rhythm to her steps. “Sir,” she greets Donghae with a respectful nod. Hyukjae startles slightly. He’s so used to hearing her speak in a sarcastic and irritated manner around Donghae, that the sudden change comes as a shock.

Secretary continues, “your meeting of four o’clock is ready to start in the main conference room. I’ve already had someone set the screen projector, and I’ll bring your files in a minute.”

 

“Ah.” Donghae blinks. That’s another reason why he likes her so much, she’s so efficient. He sips the last of his coffee and then stands up, groaning when his sore body protests at the sudden move. “Are they already here? All the guys?”

 

“Yes, sir,” she nods. “Do you need anything else?”

 

Donghae mumbles an absentminded “no” as he looks around for his phone, not quite noticing when Secretary leaves the office. Then he starts to gather his laptop, a couple of pens and some blank paper for eventual notes—or maybe to doodle, because sometimes these meetings go on forever, especially when Kyuhyun starts bickering with Henry from Human Resources. The heap of things forms a precarious balance between Donghae’s arms, but he still decides to take the risk and stands up cautiously. But then he takes a first step around the desk, and already everything threatens to fall out of his grasp. _Oh, shit_ , he grimaces before looking up at Hyukjae in appeal.

 

“Uh,” he starts. Stops in confusion. Hyukjae is hovering sadly by their desks, staring at Donghae in barely concealed envy.

“Um,” Donghae tries again, and then yelps when his laptop almost slips through his fingers to crash onto the ground. “I mean, are you not, uh, going? You know, to the meeting?” He pauses. “You can, if you want. Didn’t I tell you that?” Obviously he hasn’t, judging by the way that Hyukjae’s gaze has turned a little accusing. “You’re, uh. You’re totally welcome to go with me to observe and stuff.”

 

Hyukjae brightens up just for a second, before he’s already frowning again. He clears his throat and then looks down pointedly at his clothes. They’re a bit too casual for the kind of meeting that Donghae’s about to hold. “I’m not sure it’ll be appropriate,” he mumbles reluctantly. There’s a hint of a pout tugging at the corners of his lips as his shoulders slump down in disappointment.

 

Donghae has to quail down the urge to reach out and ruffle Hyukjae’s dark hair. He makes _such_ an adorable sight, sulking and pouting and frowning, like a child that’s been denied their day at the park. A smile threatens to break across Donghae’s face.

“Ah. Right.” Donghae blinks thoughtfully. He takes the time to appreciate the simplicity of Hyukjae’s handsomeness once again, sighing happily. Then, snapping out of his daze, he dumps the mess that he’s been holding in his arms onto the desk. Hyukjae scrunches his nose up in distaste as pens roll off the edge and crumpled pieces of paper fall listlessly towards the floor.

“Here,” Donghae continues as he takes off his jacket. It’s a little rumpled so he gives it a little shake. “Put this on,” he says, “you should be fine.”

 

“Um, what? _What_ ,” Hyukjae squeaks loudly. He tries to take a step back but Donghae sends him a quelling look. His eyes then widen in panic when Donghae throws the piece of clothing into his hands without further warning. “Look, I—I’m not sure it’s—”

 

“Of course you can,” Donghae rolls his eyes, although it’s not meant to be unkind. He gathers his pen and paper and laptop again, struggling not to drop anything. It’s a hard task and honestly he should just shove everything in a bag, but Donghae’s always been rather unnecessarily pig-headed. “You should try it; I think it’ll fit you just fine but just in case, you know.”

 

Hyukjae blushes all the way down to his throat as he stares down at the black jacket. He opens his mouth as if to protest again, blushes, and closes it hesitantly. Then, after a last encouraging look from Donghae, he finally slips his arms through the sleeves. His face is a dark shade of red as he shrugs on the jacket. It does fit him rather well in the end, although it looks a bit too large around his lean shoulders, since their body shapes aren’t quite exactly the same.

Donghae blinks at the sight. Once again, he’s struck by the youth that Hyukjae usually tries so hard to hide. Right now, with this fancy jacket that makes him look like he’s a kid drowning in adult clothes, his young age is nothing if striking. It makes him look so small—so vulnerable. Then Donghae suddenly remembers, _but he_ is _just a kid_. He’s just a boy, who looks no older than maybe twenty-five years old at best—who’s so inexperienced and still so innocent.

Hyukjae shuffles a little awkwardly as he tugs on an edge of Donghae’s jacket, prompting Donghae to feel a surge of protectiveness. Hyukjae’s just in jeans and sneakers, looking exactly like the unsure student that he actually is despite the maturity that he wants to display so hard. Donghae’s expensive CEO jacket is draped over his shoulders, and he likes to think that it’s his own way to shield him from the cruelty of the world out there.

 

“Um,” Donghae starts, a little lost. He clears his throat and desperately tightens his hold around the heap of stuff in his arms, shuffling from one foot to another. There’s an intense warmth that’s building around his chest and aches, and it’s really not the right timing for it. “We should, uh. We should go, I think?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Hyukjae answers quietly. Shyly.

 

And holy _shit_ , but is he trying to kill Donghae? _Is_ he?

Donghae kind of wants to _die_ right now, because he has a meeting to hold that should have started five minutes ago, but there he is, _mooning_ over this boy. This cruel _boy_ , that’s being so bashful all of a sudden, even though he’s usually so confident and cheeky and bold. The contrast between those two attitudes make Donghae feel a little faint, like he’s not breathing right anymore, like the world’s turning upside down over and over again. He’s feeling dizzy, a little disoriented, and thinks, _shit_.

 _Holy shit, Hyukjae._  

 

*

 

It takes some time but Donghae does manage to gather his wits. He takes a deep breath to fortify himself and tries his best not to glance at Hyukjae, because he really can’t allow himself to get distracted again.

As they make their way towards the main conference room, which is on the same floor as his office, Donghae starts to feel a bit more and more at ease. It’s a meeting for a monthly appraisal between the company’s heads of department, meant to improve the coordination between each branch if needed. Most people would consider this kind of mandatory gathering as a tedious chore, but not him. To Donghae, it’s a reminder of those better times when he didn’t feel quite so lost in his own company. They’re all friends after all, the eight of them—the co-founders of this company that used to be so small. They make Donghae feel much more at home in this conference room than he does in the rest of this scary, too-big company.

The eight highest-ranked members of Donghae’s company are all talking together as they wait for the meeting to start. They’re gathered in a corner of the room, so loud and laughing and yelling. Donghae smiles fondly as memories of their first months in this business flood his mind. He remembers when they’d talk about business plans and then switch suddenly to silly jokes, or asking how their parents were doing, or arguing about what they’d eat for dinner. It was such a mess, honestly, but they were having the time of their lives, and Donghae wants it back. Even before they thought about starting a business, they’d meet often in the week, to study or have a drink or play games in Kyuhyun’s house, because Kyuhyun always had the best games. They’d often hang out at Siwon’s not-villa, too— _really_ , he insisted all the time, _it’s just an average house!_ —, because it had the biggest backyard and the best television.

There’re Kyuhyun and Siwon, of course, who manage the department of accounting and finances together. Sungmin and Heechul are both from marketing, while Henry takes care of the human resources department. There’s Boa, too, who runs production with an iron fist, and Seohyun who’s at the head of research and development. They all used to go to this same university, back in the day, when all they had to worry about was homework and grades, and be invited to that awesome party on Saturday night. Well, that was mostly Heechul and Henry, but somehow, the rest of them would follow as well.

Now Donghae’s heart aches for his bunch of best friends that he sees so little now. When their team grew too big to fit in their first locale, they had to buy their own building and split the company into departments, each having its own floor. Now he’s lucky if he can have lunch with all of them at least once a week, since they became so busy. Of course there are Siwon and Kyuhyun, who often drop by to discipline Donghae as best as they can, but it’s not same. It still feels like there’s a hole in his life, and he really dislikes it.

 

“Hello everybody,” Donghae calls mildly. They all quiet down to greet him back politely. Although they’re all friends with each other, their attitude sometimes takes a slightly respectful edge that he’s always hated to the core. It’s usually how those meetings start; they’d act all respectful and distance-y with him, as if they haven’t seen him down with gastroenteritis for days—and really, it’d been nasty—, until someone makes a joke—Heechul—or start bickering—all of them, really.

Donghae goes to sit down at the end of the conference table. Now that he’s feeling relaxed, it’s easy to take this meeting more seriously than he does with the rest. He then invites Hyukjae to sit down at his right after having introduced him to the others, and the latter sends him an odd glance, as if he’s not sure what to do with him. Donghae gives him a confused look in return, before he declares to the rest of the room, “let’s start.”

 

The meeting begins with a mandatory assessment from each department. Sungmin and Heechul are first to go, as usual. They detail the numbers of sales they’ve achieved so far, as well as the new customer strategy that they’d like to set up for next month. Boa and Seohyun go next, exposing their own results and pointing out some weakness in their interdepartmental communication. Then it’s Henry’s turn, who talks about employee performance and then asks about the others about the internship program. They all grasp this opportunity to tease Donghae, who flushes and grumbles under his breath. Hyukjae laughs softly by his side, and maybe—just _maybe_ —it makes things a little better. Finally, Kyuhyun and Siwon quickly go over some financial statements and start a debate on how much the marketing’s new customer strategy would cost to their budget.

 

“Right,” Donghae clears his throat as Heechul grabs Siwon in a playful headlock. He straightens up in his chair, glancing down at the piece of paper where he’s been jotting down some notes throughout the meeting. There’re also some doodles in a corner from when Kyuhyun and Henry started their monthly quarrel about this-or-that. He thinks it was about a drama this time, but he’s not sure.

“I have a few comments to make,” Donghae says. “First of all, while last month’s sales show a slight upward trend, I think we can all agree that we’ve been going through a slight slump since summer. It doesn’t seem too serious but I’d rather we don’t let this go on for too long, yes?” He looks up, satisfied to see everyone nodding seriously. By his side, Hyukjae looks a bit agitated as he steals glances at him. “Heechul and Sungmin’s marketing strategy seems promising enough, so let’s go with it for now. We also have some interesting projects and collaboration offers that should boost sales, but I’ll come back to that later.

“Now though, I’ve seen some complaints about quality. It was mostly about the beta version of the Blue Moon project, but I’d like both production, R&D and marketing to look into it. Have a report on that on my desk by the end of the week, too, please. Let’s not take chances with the other products.”

Donghae pauses to take a breath. Next to him, Hyukjae is staring with something caught between amazement and slight reproach. He’s blushing a little, too, and Donghae can’t help but blush as well.

He continues, “I’ve also taken a look at some papers I’ve received from finances.” He takes a couple of papers out from the file that Secretary left for him. “There are some errors in there, guys. Especially in the financial record and in the balance sheet. It’s details, really, but still. I don’t know who made these documents, but next time, please check them over before they can reach my desk.” He looks up at Siwon and Kyuhyun, who are listening attentively.

Hyukjae still looks like he half wants to pull on Donghae’s ear, half wants to pat him to make sure he’s real. Donghae really doesn’t know what to think about it.

“You know I’ll always check, just in case, but tell yourself this; imagine that I can’t edit these statements, so the ones that I receive should be the ones that I’ll send. Everything has to be triple-checked before they leave your floor. Of course, this goes for every department.”

 

Everybody nods while some even express their agreement out loud.

 

Kyuhyun frowns and starts scribbling furiously onto his notebook. “Yes, of course,” he mumbles unhappily, but Donghae knows it’s because he doesn’t like handing in half-assed work. “Sorry about that, Donghae.”

 

“No problem, don’t worry,” Donghae shrugs. “Anyway, about those projects and collaboration offers that I talked about earlier; I actually had Hyukjae look over them today. I took a look before handing the files over to him but I haven’t checked ever since. If that’s alright with you all, we could postpone the rest of the meeting to tomorrow afternoon so we can have a talk about it together? Hyukjae might present the projects himself if he feels up for it.” He glances at Hyukjae, who blushes but holds himself a bit straighter in obvious excitement.

 

“Um,” Boa winces as she raises her hand, “I’m sorry but I can’t.” She sends an apologetic glance at Hyukjae. “I have a business trip tomorrow that’ll probably take me the whole day.

 

“Ah. Well, shit.”

 

Boa hides a smile while the rest doesn’t bother stifling their laughter at his cursing. Donghae bites down onto his lower lip, feeling a little proud that he made his best friends laugh. Then he sends a helpless look in Hyukjae’s direction as he realizes that, once again, he did not think this through. That earns him additional chuckles of amusement, as well as snickers from Kyuhyun, because Kyuhyun’s a bastard.

 

“Um,” Donghae blinks rapidly. “I’m not sure what to tell you guys, actually.” He turns to Hyukjae. “Do you think you could present the projects quickly? You can totally say no though. I understand that I haven’t given you any time to prepare anything. I, uh. I haven’t really thought this through, to be honest.”

 

“What a surprise,” Donghae hears someone mumble, and he’s pretty sure it’s Heechul. He sends a glare in his general direction.

 

“Um, I—…” Hyukjae starts. He looks flustered to have all the attention focused on him suddenly. “It’s okay,” he says, “I can manage. I think.”

Hyukjae stands up a little clumsily and takes a deep breath to fortify himself, clutching his notebook against his chest. His fingers start to drum against the binding, a steady four-beat tapping that betrays his nervousness.

“There were, uh. There were about three collaborations and two company projects that I had to look over. I only had time to study three collaboration offers so far. The first two were from _Leighton_ and _Sunwha_ , which are companies we’ve already worked with in the past. Their offers were pretty similar to the ones they made before, too, but the outcome wasn’t really good from what I gathered. I decided to put them aside for now, but I’ll probably have to check with Mr. Lee when he has time.”

Hyukjae glances at Donghae uncertainly, who smiles at him in encouragement. He grins back, and his finger-tapping slows down just a little.

“Then there’s the third offer, which seems like the most interesting so far. It’s a collaboration with the brand _Decaith_ , which is really in trend these days, especially among the twenty-year-old and thirty-year-old crowd. They’d like to use make a limited edition of the last version of OneDay with their brand. I studied the past collaborations that they made in the best which were similar to this one, and it looks like most of them have been successful.”

 

“Good, that’s interesting,” Sungmin comments. Heechul nods thoughtfully as he makes notes on his laptop. “I studied their offer too and I came to the same conclusions, mostly. I’m not sure that OneDay is the best product with which we should collaborate with _Decaith_ , but I like the general idea.”

 

“Yes,” Hyukjae says, flustered from the implicit compliment. His eyes shine in obvious excitement, thrilled that his hard work has paid off. Donghae smiles, fond and aching for him. “There’s, uh. There’s also an offer for a collaboration with a NGO, which the company has never tried before. I could only skim through the file before the meeting, but I think it looks promising. I’ll, uh. I’ll tell you more when I’ve finished.”

 

Donghae hums thoughtfully. A bubble of pride is building in the middle of his chest, warm and aching. He gives Hyukjae a discreet smile. “I’ll take a look at those projects tomorrow. From what I’ve learned thanks to this presentation, the _Decaith_ project does seem interesting. I’d also love to see the company participate in humanitarian aid and such. A patronage with a NGO seems like a really good idea, and it’ll also be great PR for us.” Then to Hyukjae, he says, “good job, Hyukjae. You can sit back down.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Hyukjae says, full of pride and happiness.

 

He goes to sit down next to Donghae, while someone mumbles amusedly, “isn’t that Donghae’s vest that he’s wearing?”

 

The meeting ends soon after Donghae makes a final speech that summarizes his observations and exposes the directions that he’d like the company to take in the future. All his friends cheer at him when he’s finished, wolf-whistling and clapping too-loudly, like a bunch of the dumbest kids. Donghae blushes in embarrassment but he’s laughing as well, secretly pleased. Afterwards they chat casually together for a few minutes and around a cup of coffee, terribly loud and silly, until their respective secretaries rush them back to work. That prompts a general groan of reluctance amongst them. Donghae is amused to realize that even though no one’s quite as bad as himself, they’re all kind of the same, really. Except maybe Seohyun—she’s always been rather particular about homework and things.

After everyone’s scattered around to go down to their floor, Donghae heads back to his office with reluctant feet. All his friends have left and suddenly he feels alone, lonely, like someone fixed that hole in his life and then punched it open again. He sighs sadly.

Hyukjae follows him without a word. He stays completely silent by his side, but Donghae can feel that he’s getting more and more agitated by the second, like he’s about to explode with all his questions.

Donghae distractedly wonders when he will snap.

 

It’s only when he’s closed the door of the office behind them, that Hyukjae finally exclaims, “you’re actually good at this!” He sounds terribly accusing as he frowns down at Donghae, who’s just let himself fall down into his chair.

 

“Um, what?” the latter raises bewildered eyebrows. “I’m… good?”

 

“At this job!” Hyukjae insists but this time he’s blushing, realizing that maybe he’s being a little rude to his direct superior. “You were so serious and professional and great, and, and—”

 

Donghae barks out an amused laugh. “So you mean I’m not usually all those things?”

 

“You know what I mean!” Hyukjae says and it comes out as a whine, all high-pitched and a little pouty. “I mean, you—you usually slack off all day and do nothing, no offense, and Mrs. Yoo looks like she wants to stab you every minute of the day, and I just thought, well, maybe he’s just not doing his best yet, you know? But. But I didn’t think that you’d be _this_ good. You were—you were _impressive_ , okay.”

 

Donghae blinks at the compliment—or at least, he _thinks_ it’s a compliment. “Uh,” he says again, laughing. “I’m… I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react to all this but.” He glances down at his watch. “Look, I’m kind of starving because that sandwich at lunch? It was shit. Also, I need coffee. So maybe we can, uh. Maybe we could go down and grab something to eat, yeah? And you can ask me all your questions?”

 

“I—okay. Okay.” Hyukjae frowns again, feeling a little placated. He waits until Donghae stands up and then walks out of the office first when the latter invites him to.

 

As he’s about to lock the door, Donghae notices that Hyukjae’s still wearing his vest. But instead of asking it back, he bites onto his lower lip and hides a small smile.


	4. Chapter 4

After much reflexion, Donghae decides to bring them to _La Réserve_. It’s a fancy restaurant just a couple of blocks away from the company that serves some of the best French cuisine in the district. Or at least that’s what Siwon keeps telling him every time that they go there for lunchbreak. Donghae wouldn’t really know the difference between a fast-food burger and a gourmet one, so let’s not even get started on _cordon bleu_ and whatever. He mostly likes this particular restaurant because they do make a really mean steak. Plus it looks like it’d suitably impress potential dates, so that’s quite quaint indeed, isn’t it? 

Not that Hyukjae’s his _date_ or anything. But, _you know_. It certainly doesn’t hurt to make a good impression every so often. 

Donghae glances at Hyukjae from the corners of the eyes and grimaces. Well, he thinks bemusedly, this is _awkward_. Shit, but he has no idea what the appropriate rules are when a CEO invites their intern for lunch, especially when said intern is feeling a bit cross. Admittedly Donghae doesn’t know about that many rules in general, but it’s the thought of it that counts surely. 

They left the company a couple of minutes ago, heading to the restaurant by foot. They haven’t shared a single word since then. A heavy silence surrounds them as they keep on walking, and Donghae doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do about it. He’s too oblivious or too chicken or too much of both to understand what all of this is about. 

Next to him, Hyukjae just continues to scowl. A frown draws his eyebrows together and pulls the corners of his lips into an unhappy grimace. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, like the perfect picture of stubbornness. He glares at his shoes as he stomps along the busy streets, as if they did something personally offending to him. He’s so caught in his silent glowering that he almost bumps into a few by-passers; Donghae’s quick to pull him aside before that can happen. Each time Hyukjae glances up at him with an embarrassed flush and then looks away hastily.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles under his breath. It’s possibly the first word that he’s uttered in the fifteen minutes that they’ve been outside.

 

Donghae offers him an awkward twist of his mouth that’s supposed to be a grin, but says nothing. He has a feeling that Hyukjae wouldn’t have heard him anyway, troubled as he seems to be by his thousand thoughts. It’s a little disconcerting, a little flattering, isn’t it, that _he’s_ probably the reason why Hyukjae looks so agitated.

It’s very awkward, too, if Donghae’s completely honest. He has the uneasy feeling that he’s about to get scolded by his own subordinate again—or maybe by an annoyed boyfriend, and he really doesn’t know what to think about that. The thought leaves him wrong-footed, and fuck if he knows whether he should go for professionalism or take a more intimate approach. Considering that he’s always been rather crap at both, his only option is feeling nervous and generally confused.

Donghae’s faintly amazed at his social ineptitude.

 

“Uh, we’re almost here,” he says and waves vaguely in front of them. He almost slaps an old lady in the face as a result, who huffs in indignation even as he apologizes profusely. 

 

Hyukjae stays quiet. Donghae peers at him with curious, vaguely terrified eyes. He wonders if he’s really mad about something or just very embarrassed about the yelling from earlier. It’s probably a bit of both, he guesses sympathetically. Fuck, but he’s rather glad that he’s not in Hyukjae’s shoes right now, because _damn_ , he wouldn’t have known how to handle all of the _stress_. 

To be fair, Donghae’s never shouted at a superior before. Back when he’d been an intern, he’d been much too busy hiding behind his desk and-slash-or panicking about being completely useless. After that he graduated from university and built the company with his friends, and he’s always been his own boss ever since. Still, he can imagine that it’s probably not the best of experiences. 

Hyukjae’s still glaring at his shoes, which is starting to be just a bit worrying. His pout seems to deepen with each brisk step that he takes next to Donghae, like the promise of a tantrum about to happen. He looks so petulant as he continues to glower stubbornly, a bit like an unhappy kid who didn’t get his way and wants to make sure that everybody knows how cross he is about it. It’s a stark contrast to the tough, mature façade that he usually tries so hard to show off at work.

Donghae feels something soft grow inside his chest at the thought. A small smile spreads across his lips before he can think about stopping it, secret and fond and so very warm. Catching a glimpse of Hyukjae’s younger, childish side makes his heart ache gently for some odd reason. Maybe, he thinks—maybe it’s because he cares more than he’d like to admit. Maybe it’s because sometimes he worries that Hyukjae’s too much in a rush to become a proper adult. It’s just, his impatience might make him forget to enjoy his youth while he still can, and that’s a truly terrifying thought.

Donghae knows all about the harshness of the outside world, knows about the wonderful promises that it holds, only for everything to eventually crumble down into bitter reality. The _real_ world isn’t a pleasant place, not at all. It’s painful and merciless and will crush some of the greatest dreams without the slightest qualm. The thought that Hyukjae might stumble upon this shithole completely unprepared makes Donghae sick in the stomach. He’s lived it before, and it’s—fuck, but it’s _bad_. He doesn’t want this boy, who still has so many hopes and dreams and such bright, clever eyes, to go through this nightmare without happy memories of his youth to cheer him up from time to time.

It’s a bit silly, really, but whenever Hyukjae allows himself to act childish in front of Donghae, even just a little, it’s like a small victory. It’s an “ _it’ll be okay_ , a “ _he’s going to be okay_ ”.

 

“We’re, uh, here,” Donghae says finally as they stop in front of the restaurant. Hyukjae spares him a quick glance, apparently still too reluctant to look at him properly. He clears his throat awkwardly and holds the door open for Hyukjae. “Come on; let’s go in.” 

 

Distracted from his sulking by the fancy and slightly intimidating place, Hyukjae sends him a half-curious, half-nervous look. Donghae offers him a reassuring grin in return. It’s shy and a little wobbly around the edges, because in the half an hour that they spent avoiding each other’s gazes, he’s forgotten how breathtaking, world-tumbling-upside-down it is to be the focus of those bright, clever eyes.

Hyukjae’s look then turns speculative, a little pensive. Donghae feels a light blush spread across his cheekbones and he ducks his head down hurriedly.

 

Inside the waiter brings them to a vacant table near the windows. He hands them the menus then starts listing down specialties and wines, in a fluent French that makes Donghae feel a little dizzy and lost.

 

“Uh, thanks,” he mutters under his breath. He understands now why it’s usually Siwon who puts his order; he actually knows what’s good and what’s not. Donghae can’t even figure out what _entrées_ means, for fuck’s sake. “Uh,” he repeats.

 

“If I may, sir,” the waiter clears his throat politely. He offers Donghae a knowing grin, looking mildly amused. “I would suggest the onion soup to start your meal; as the main course, we have a very nice _tournedos de boeuf_ that I’m sure you would both enjoy.” He pauses. “That would be beef, of course.”

 

Donghae blinks. From the corners of the eyes, he sees Hyukjae duck his head down to hide a smile. He blushes, embarrassed and a little pleased that Hyukjae has finally cheered up some since earlier. 

“Ah.” He takes a last clueless look at the menu. “Well, I, uh. I’ll take the, um, toor-nuh-doh then please.”

 

“I’ll take the same,” Hyukjae says with a winning smile, as if trying to make up for Donghae’s terrible accent with his charms only. Donghae has no doubt that he would succeed too. That, and he has the distinct feeling that Hyukjae has too much pride to ever be caught fumbling with the pronunciation of unfamiliar French words.

 

“A very good choice indeed, sirs,” the waiter says solemnly. Then he disappears into the kitchens to start their orders, leaving an awkward silence to settle behind him.

 

Donghae gulps again. He picks up a fork for a second then puts it back down when he realizes that he has no idea what to do with it. 

In front of him Hyukjae just fidgets nervously in his chair. He glances up at Donghae every now and then, like he has a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue but doesn’t dare to speak them up just yet. He alternates between frowning down at his napkin, and frowning at Donghae with narrowed, accusing eyes.

Although he knows that Hyukjae’s waiting for him to break the ice first, Donghae sits very still in his chair and keeps his mouth shut. If that kid thought that intimidation would work on him then he’s going to be _thoroughly mistaken_. He’s had _years_ of practice with Kyuhyun and Siwon.

Silence stretches between them for a long time, enough for the waiter to come back with their drinks a few minutes later. He leaves them on the table and then throws a faintly disapproving look at Donghae, as if to say ‘ _well, won’t you do something about it?_ ’. 

Donghae really doesn’t want to, _thanks ever so much_. If it was only up to him, he’d just leave the topic unresolved for the rest of time. 

But he knows, too, that it’s important for Hyukjae that he asks his questions and finds his answers. Not only so that he doesn’t think that Donghae is some kind of high-level scammer, but also so that he can hear from someone who’s more experienced in life that he is.

Donghae really doesn’t think that he’s the appropriate person to talk to. Fuck, but he barely knows how to act like a proper adult on the best of days. Still, he really has to do this, doesn’t he? He gulps. Taking in a fortifying breath, he finally opens his mouth to break the silence. 

 

“I—” Hyukjae starts before Donghae can even utter a sound, leaving him fumbling with words that he has to hold back. “I’m sorry for earlier. It wasn’t my place to yell at you like I did; I’m really sorry.”

 

“Oh.” Donghae clears his throat. He certainly didn’t expect _that_. “Uh.” 

Some part of him wants to just laugh it off, but he has a hunch that it wouldn’t be well received. He darts his eyes away and scratches the side of his head uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. He He vaguely wishes that he could declare a timeout and ask his friends for advice— _they’d_ know what to say. 

“It’s, uh.” Donghae pauses, feeling a bit lost. “It’s okay, really. I’m sure you must have been very… surprised, I guess?”

 

Hyukjae snorts in disbelief then flushes. His smooth hair falls over his eyes as he ducks his head down apologetically. “Yes,” he says. “I was _really_ surprised. I just don’t understand—”

Hyukjae looks up uncertainly at Donghae. His features are twisted in a mix of frustration and confusion, and Donghae feels the urge to reach out and bring back that beautiful smile on his face. “I just don’t understand.”

 

“What do you not understand? Look, I—” Donghae shrugs a little helplessly and spreads his arms in a silent invitation; he’s rewarded with a small, amused grin. “You can ask me anything, okay? I will—I’ll try to answer as best as I can.” 

 

Hyukjae bites down on his lower lip in thoughts. He fiddles absentmindedly with his glass, watching the water move around the bottom like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. For a long moment he doesn’t say anything. Donghae wonders briefly if maybe he’s decided to drop the topic. 

 

“I thought,” he says finally, “I thought that you hated your job. I mean, it—... it really looks like you were forced into it sometimes, you know? You’re always late and you slack off so much and I kept thinking, ‘ _why is he still here if he hates it so much?_ ’” He tips his glass to the side until the water almost flows over the edge. “But today you—… you were _so good_ and it’s—… it’s _weird_ , is what it is.”

Finally Hyukjae looks up and he still looks so lost—but also a little accusing and hopeful, as if he trusts Donghae to have all the answers that he’s looking for, silently demanding to hear them. His fingers start a rhythmic, frantic _tap-tap-tap-tap_ around the edge of the table. It reaches their ears in a faint background noise and betrays his agitation; Donghae feels a little guilty that he’s caused him so much distress.

 

Hyukjae’s eyes carry expectations that Donghae’s not so sure that he can handle. They lie heavy on his conscience, a steady reminder that he’s supposed to be the more mature, more experienced one of them two. It makes him feel rather nauseous.

 

“Uh, well,” Donghae says after a while then winces a bit at his own lack of eloquence, “honestly I don’t think it’s really possible to be in my position in a company like mine if you don’t like your job at least a little.”

Leaning back into his chair, he stares vacantly in the distance. He remembers the early days of this big, great thing that’s become such a huge part of his life now. For better and for worse.

“I actually do enjoy my job, you know, it’s just that there’s—… well, there’s a lot of drawbacks that come with it, I guess? Sometimes—and maybe too often, really—it feels like there’re more downsides than upsides, and that’s when it gets really hard to keep it up. But I—”

Donghae bites down on his tongue and feels something grip the inside of his chest tightly. Once again he thinks back on this crazy project that he’d put on paper with his friends years ago—the dizzying excitement that had come with it, the determination and the pride. Nostalgically he wonders when all this great enthusiasm was replaced with reluctance and anxiety. 

It’s not often that he has to explain himself about his awful attitude at work, and so he struggles to find the right words. People usually assume that he’s being difficult just for the sake of being difficult—it’s not entirely wrong, to be fair. But it’s not exactly true either.

“I think,” Donghae says finally, “that I care too much about the few upsides to quit my job.” 

 

“I don’t get it,” Hyukjae shakes his head. He’s about to elaborate when the waiter comes back with their orders. They thank him and wait until he’s left again before they can resume their argument. 

“I don’t get it,” he repeats. He still sounds a bit confused and frustrated, but now his voice has also taken an edge that sounds very matter-of-fact, like it’s just any other debate and he’s daring Donghae to convince him. “Why do you keep this job if you don’t fully like it? I mean, how do you wake up every day thinking, ‘ _oh great, another day working a job that I hate a lot more than I lov_ e’? Why do you force yourself when you’re obviously not one hundred percent into it? Sure you did a great job today at the meeting—but most of the time you’re not _that_ good, no offense. How can you even stand this?”

 

“To be fair sometimes I don’t even bother waking up,” Donghae half-jokes and watches Hyukjae laugh with a pleased smile of his own. “But, you know—I used to think just like you before. I used to tell myself I’d never keep a job if I don’t love it fully. First, because that sounded like a really dull life; and also because that’d have been a recipe for disaster, if you think about how much I procrastinate all the time.

“But then, well.” He shrugs. “At some point I realized that it’s actually not that simple. Things aren’t so black and white in real life, and sometimes you have to make choices.”

 

“And so you chose to play pretend?” Hyukjae frowns, looking skeptical and a little reprimanding. “That doesn’t sound like a very good choice.”

 

Donghae barks out a laugh. “It probably isn’t. I’m not known for being very wise with decisions.” Another shrug. “It wasn’t a rational choice anyway. It’s true that there’s a lot of things about my job that I’d rather live without, but my friends and I, we built the company ourselves from scratch. When it was still small and it was just us trying to put it on its feet, it was honestly the best thing in the world.” 

Donghae can’t help but smile, warmed by his memories and still fiercely convinced that he’s right to hold onto this unsteady boat, even if sometimes it feels like it’s about to sink.

“So now when things get really bad,” he says, “I try to remember that if it was so good at the beginning, then surely it can get just as great later on. I tell myself that I just need to get through the bad times.” 

 

Hyukjae doesn’t reply immediately and frowns down hard at his plate. Donghae knows it’s because he’s picking through his speech and looking for its weak points.

In the meantime they finally start on their meal. It’s started to turn a bit cold, but it’s still delicious, juicy and full of savors. Donghae makes a note to tell Siwon about it later when he’ll need to distract him from some chore that he’s been neglecting again. 

After a few bites, Donghae rolls his shoulders discreetly. He finally relaxes a bit. He’s happy to answer Hyukjae’s questions as best as he can, but it’s not often that he uses his brain so much during lunchtime—or anytime really. Usually he uses up all his strength for one big meeting at the end of the week and then takes five days to recuperate from the strain. 

Plus it’s terribly intimidating to know that his answers will influence Hyukjae one way or another. Even if he knows it’s unlikely, he really hopes he doesn’t mess up. 

 

“Okay, fine,” Hyukjae says abruptly and startles Donghae, who then proceeds to choke on a piece of French fries. “I mean, I’m not sure I agree with you, but _why not_ ,” he concedes. “How can you _not_ enjoy being CEO though? Isn’t it, like, the best job ever? You make it sound like it’s horrible, but everybody wants to be _it_. Everybody wants to be _you_. So many people would kill to have everything that you’ve earned.”

 

“Uh,” Donghae mumbles after he manages to swallow. He’s dizzy from the lack of oxygen and his face feels hot all over. “I mean, it’s not _bad_. I guess if it’s what you want and enjoy doing in life, then yeah, sure, it’s one of the best jobs in the world. Not everyone likes to be leaders though; I certainly don’t. 

“And anyway,” he continues, “you might think it’s the best job right now, but your perspective can change over time as you gain experience in life and professionally. You probably understand what I mean, on some level; it’s like when you were in high school and you thought university was going to be the best thing ever, and then it turns out it’s neither really good or really bad.”

He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts into something intelligible. “Like everything in life, I think it’s hard to be one hundred percent sure that you want to do something until you’ve tried it and you really understand the ins and outs. That’s what internships are for, theoretically.”

 

“Well, yes. But what about—” Hyukjae stops, hesitating.

 

“Yes?” Donghae encourages him with a curious grin. “You can tell me, you know.”

 

“What about,” Hyukjae starts and stops again, looking very embarrassed. “What about me, then?”

 

Donghae blinks confusedly. “Uh. What do you mean, what about me? I mean, uh, you; not me. You know.”

 

Hyukjae looks like he’s barely refraining from rolling his eyes. He leans forward and pins Donghae with an intense frown that makes him fidget in his chair.

“I _mean_ , how can I be sure that this is really want to do with my life? Right now I feel so sure of what I want to do after I graduate, but what if you’re right and I realize that it’s not what I expected at all? What if I realize in a couple of years, maybe even _months_ , that I hate it and I want to raise goats or—or open a dance studio or something?”

Hyukjae looks upset now. His nervous _tap-taps_ have sped up so much that his fingers run in a blur along the edge of the table. “I don’t have the required degrees for that and I’ll have wasted so much time!”

 

“You dance? I didn’t know you danced!” Donghae exclaims, pleasantly surprised and only vaguely aware that he’s focusing on the wrong message.

“Uh, I mean,” he says hurriedly when Hyukjae sends him a sharp look. “You’re pretty young, you know, so if one day you do realize that your dream is to, uh, raise goats, then.” He shrugs awkwardly. “Just go for it.”

Donghae takes another bite of his food. He focuses so much on not getting it all over his face that this time, he doesn’t quite pay attention to the taste. “For some reason, people tend to think that if you change your major mid-studies then that means that you don’t know what you’re doing and you’re probably going to fail at some point.”

He looks up and stares into Hyukjae’s eyes, determined to make him understand what he’s trying to say. “That’s _bullshit_ , honestly. It’s _okay_ to make mistakes, and it’s _okay_ to challenge yourself by pursuing what you really want to do. Even if it means raising goats in the middle of nowhere. There’s success in failure as long as you never give up.” He blinks. “Or, uh, something.”

 

Hyukjae scrutinizes him for a long moment. “You make absolutely no sense,” Hyukjae advises distractedly, like an afterthought, as he reflects on their conversation. Something then seems to clear in his eyes, as if he was slowly letting go of his wariness and allowing himself, just for a second and no more, to trust Donghae’s words.

“But,” Hyukjae offers Donghae a grateful half-grin, “thanks for telling me all this. It really means a lot.”

 

Donghae blushes, embarrassed and pleased all at once. “It’s okay,” he clears his throat. “I—… you’re welcome. Really.”

 

They share a smile, awkward but genuine, and Donghae believes fiercely that they’re going to be okay.

 

*

 

Immediately after they get back to the company, Kyuhyun corners Donghae viciously in his office. He looks just about ready to strangle him, and for a second Donghae genuinely fears for his life. Frantically he tries to remember if he’s forgotten another board meeting—that does happen sometimes—, but his mind comes up blank.

 

Donghae gulps. He holds his hands up in front of him sheepishly. “Uh. Hi?”

 

“Where _the fuck_ were you?” Kyuhyun snaps. He barely acknowledges Hyukjae’s presence, even as he steps inside the office and closes the door behind him. “I’ve been calling you for _ages_.”

 

“Well.” Gulping again, he glances at Hyukjae a little helplessly. He’d rather not ruin whatever feeling of respect that he’s managed to earn from him right after the inspirational conversation that they just had. “Did you eat a bad sandwich again?”

 

Kyuhyun huffs explosively and folds his arms across his chest. “I ate a _salad_ , if you must know.”

 

“Ah.” Donghae shrugs sympathetically; that’d really put him in a bad mood too if he had to eat only green-y leaves for lunch. “My condolences, my friend.”

 

“ _Ugh_.” Kyuhyun slumps into a chair, rubbing his temples tiredly, before he turns to grimace at Hyukjae apologetically. “I’m sorry about that,” he sighs. “I really didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s just been hectic since that meeting, and _someone_ —” he glares at Donghae “—hasn’t been answering their damn phone.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Donghae rolls his eyes. He sits down at his desk, just as Hyukjae goes to do the same. “So what’s getting your pants in a twist on this fine afternoon exactly?”

 

Kyuhyun shoots him another glare. Then he sighs dejectedly. “I’ve been looking at the typos in the financial statements, the ones that you told us to fix earlier this morning. Turns out, they come from bigger mistakes, and I think we’ll have to look into everything. And when I say everything, I do mean _everything_.” Kyuhyun drops his face into his open hands and groans. “Except that Jongkook is on sick leave until the end of next week, so we need an extra pair of hands to help.”

 

“Oh.” Donghae blinks. Then pales in horror. Oh fuck, _no_ —there’s no fucking way that he’s doing— _that_. “Wait— _what_?”

 

“You _have_ to help, Donghae,” Kyuhyun declares determinedly. He straightens up in his seat and pins him with a severe look. “I don’t say it often, but _we really do need your help_.”

 

“I— _no_ ,” Donghae shakes his head vehemently. Whatever the fuck it is that Kyuhyun wants him to do, he’ll fight it _to the grave_. There’s just _no way_. He curls his fingers around the edges of his chair and grips hard, ready to resist if Kyuhyun decides to drag him away. At his desk Hyukjae glances between them in obvious interest. “You _know_ I hate finance, Kyuhyun.”

 

“I don’t need you to like it,” Kyuhyun retorts matter-of-factly. He stands up and stares down at Donghae sternly. “I need you to be _good_ at it.”

 

Donghae whines weakly. Hyukjae’s hard-won respect for him is probably flying out the windows at this point, but he doesn’t care, because _fuck_ —everything but finance, _please._ “I’m the CEO; you can’t _make_ me.”

 

Kyuhyun scoffs derisively. “Just watch me, Donghae,” he says ominously, stabbing a finger at his face. “Just _watch_ me.”

 

And then he’s striding out of the office, and Donghae’s just about ready to _cry_ in despair. He drops his forehead onto the hard surface of his desk and groans. “No,” he begs. “ _Please_ , no.”

 

“Are you alright, sir?” Hyukjae asks him. He sounds a bit bewildered, as if he doesn’t quite understand what just happened.

 

In all fairness, Donghae didn’t really either. He just knows that Kyuhyun’s about to dump a heaping amount of work on him, and it’ll involve looking at _numbers_ and doing _finance. Ugh_ , what’s the point of being a CEO if he can’t even delegate the boring chores?

“No,” Donghae moans dramatically. And there he thought that he’ll be able to clock out early tonight. “My life is officially _over_.”

 

Hyukjae raises a skeptical eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. He tilts his head to the side and frowns curiously. “Is it really that bad? All those wrong numbers?”

 

“Well,” Donghae sighs as he straightens up. He slumps his shoulders and glares morosely at his desk. “A bit, I guess? We have to publish our financial records by the end of the next week, and—well. Those are meant for investors and stakeholders, you know? So it’s pretty important. We could probably extend our deadline; it’s just that it’s not a really good idea in terms of company reputation.” He sighs again. “We’ll have to check about a month’s worth of financial figures for mistakes, in under two weeks. That’s… hard work, is what it is.”

Grimacing, he turns to Hyukjae a little apologetically. “I’ll probably have ask your help with a couple of things.”

 

“I’ll help with everything you need,” Hyukjae nods seriously, and Donghae has a feeling that he really means it. “Anything I can help with, really. Please don’t hesitate.”

 

“Thanks,” Donghae smiles. He feels something warm and hopeful curl and unfold inside his chest, and he gulps awkwardly. “Well, uh. Kyuhyun’ll send me the stuff that he wants me to look over in a bit; I’ll add you in the loop and we’ll see what you can do to help, yeah?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” Hyukjae beams at him, as if Donghae wasn’t just about to bury him under tedious work. “In that case I’ll wait for the email.”

 

A short silence settles over the office, as Donghae laments the horrible week that he’s about to go through. Then Hyukjae stands up, looking an odd combination of determination and hesitation, and steps up to his desk. “I just,” he starts and pauses awkwardly. “I just wanted to apologize again about what happened earlier, after the meeting.” Frowning, he stares down at his shoes in shame. “It was rude and unprofessional of me. I tend to get a bit… _anxious_ , I guess, when I feel like I don’t have control over things.”

 

Donghae thinks about Hyukjae’s nervous _tap-tap-tap-tap_. He nods in understanding and says, “don’t worry about it, really. I know this is, uh, probably not how I should act as your superior and everything, but professionalism isn’t really my thing, if you know what I mean?” He laughs self-deprecatingly. “If there’s anything else, any question about your internship or your life, or, you know, things in general, something that you think I could help you with—just, please don’t hesitate to ask, alright?”

 

Hyukjae doesn’t say anything for a while. He fidgets a little awkwardly, as if unsure of what to say, how to respond. Then his face clears and he smiles gratefully. “Yes,” he nods. “Alright.”

 

Donghae smiles back, feeling warm and a bit hopeful, and then proceeds to start working. Maybe if he’s efficient enough he can get most of the hard work done by the beginning of next week. It’s highly unlikely, but at least one can hope.

 

*

 

Donghae decides to take a well-deserved break around six o’clock. He’ll probably have to stay late tonight so that he can finish going through the first batches of documents that Kyuhyun sent him, and it honestly makes him want to cry a little. There are _hundreds_ of sheets that he needs to check—this is a fucking _nightmare_. Hyukjae had been ready to stay and help, but Donghae told him to go home. He’d be damned if he forced his own intern to work overtime.

Yawning under his breath, Donghae goes to the floor’s coffee machine, when he hears Hyukjae’s familiar voice somewhere near the printing machines. Donghae peeks curiously and sees him talking to a young woman. He recognizes her as one of the other interns; they’re probably from the same university program.

 

“A party tomorrow night?” Hyukjae frowns, looking vaguely interested. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Donghae yet. “Alright, I’ll think about it.”

 

“Oh, come on!” the women pouts, and Donghae just _knows_ that she’s flirting with Hyukjae. He may be thirty-three years old, but he’s not a damn fossil; he _knows_ how these things work. “We can go together after work or something; maybe have a drink, just the two of us?”

 

“I’ll think about it,” Hyukjae repeats. “I’ll tell you tomorrow at lunch?”

 

Then the two of them are off, and Donghae’s left wondering why he even left his office in the first place. For some reason, he spends the rest of the evening in a bad mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, hello? 
> 
> here's an update for the intern, fucking finally. admittedly its a bit crap, but at least i tried i guess?
> 
> im so sorry that it took me literally a year and a half to finally get it out there, but as you might know if you're following me on twitter (pls follow me?), i've been going through a tough writer's block, but now it's getting better! i've been posting and updating a lot these past few weeks, and i have other fic ideas that im hoping to finish and post soon so! please look forward! 
> 
> so as you might have realized, here hyukjae appears a lot less mature and confident than he usually is. i was trying to show that, while the dynamics between hyukjae and donghae are usually in hyukjae's favor, donghae is still the more adult character in this not-quite-relationship and he's someone that hyukjae can rely on even if it might not seem like it usually. i hope you felt that!
> 
> i'll try to update real soon and not wait another whole year like this time, lmao. i actually already have ideas for the next chapter, so! it might be easier this time around. 
> 
> i just want to apologize once again for the long wait ;; its just that i don't want to force myself and update something half-assed, i feel like it's better to take the time and post smth that im really satisfied with, because otherwise it'll just be harder to write and update things that im satisfied with in the long run. i hope you udnerstand and once again im really sorry!! 
> 
> pls remember to comment, upvote and subscribe! see you very soon, i promise i'll try to update asap :)


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